Baby on Fire
by BW1819
Summary: MODERN DAY AU. Katniss has ONLY been best friends with Peeta. Love is weakness. Now entering her Senior year, she realizes the consequences that one night can have: a plus sign on the pregnancy test. Pregnant with their child. A confused mother at seventeen, will she push the father to her unborn baby away or accept the fact that she needs Peeta for all the help he can give?
1. Questioning

Modern Day AU. What if Katniss was best friends with Peeta and had conceived a baby with him? Imagining Katniss pregnant can be slightly difficult to picture, but? Will she push Peeta away, or bring him close to her? It was absolute sister love, that Katniss was not ashamed of. She cared for a healthy and happy Prim for five years, and she plans to keep it that way. So it can't be that different, Katniss has the experience, right? For what? She is 17 and pregnant. What do her classmates think, and will she push the father to her unborn baby away or except the fact that she needs her best friend for all the help he can give?

Genre: Romance/Family/ Friendship

So we have seen the multiple scenarios where Katniss is pregnant in the quarter quell and after the epilogue and anything to do with the actual "Hunger Games" part of Hunger Games. But I LOVE modern day A/Us and I thought why not?! You know? So if you like it, just review at the bottom. I seriously just want to know someone is reading this! Thanks. How you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this except for my ideas and absolutely not the characters. I would be Suzanne Collins to except that honor, which sadly im not.

My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am 17 years old. My heart-wrenching story starts out with my father's car crash when I was 12. I had gone to school with my packed lunch and I love you kiss from Dad. I walked to school and dropped Prim off on the way. School was normal, except for the score of 100% on my spelling test. Prim by my side, we rushed home. Mother was sitting at the table with a blank look on her face, pushing the world off her shoulders and paying attention to nothing. She told me emotionlessly, "Dad was in a car accident, he's gon-n-e."

_**Those were the last words my mother spoke for three months. **_

What did I do? Nothing. Shock overwhelmed me and I could not do anything, I just sat on my couch watching reruns of cartoons absentmindedly. My dad was everything in my world, and now he is not here. Prim was like my adopted daughter with how much I did for her, without mom 'around'.

A few days after my father's death, I returned to school, and was welcomed with multiple hugs of 'I'm sorrys' and 'we miss him toos'. Even the teachers. Obviously, they were trying to be helpful, but I felt helpless. I was irritated; I am not a pity party. Just under circumstance that I was getting all the kind help. It would pass, that much I knew. However, one friend helped me through it all.

When we talked at lunch or during recess, Peeta Mellark made sure to stay as far away from the subject of my father's death as he could. Instead, we talked of the weather and which SpongeBob episodes were our favorites. I told him my secrets, and he told me his. We were unstoppable. We grew to love each other, in a brother sister kind of way. Nevertheless, I loved him like the brother I never had. Peeta would speak of how his brothers were stronger than he was, while I imagined brothers in place of my eight-year-old sister Prim.

Peeta and I spent almost every minute together. His family, more his dad, was very generous in letting us have enough food. His mother was not mean, but instead cold and limited in her words. They owned the bakery, and seemed short with their workers, and frankly, I was happy to volunteer. I worked under the table, obviously too young to work. Hard work, which is all I can say. I have the scars from the industrial sized ovens and the smiles from Peeta's company. I worked every shift with him, even when he was sick. He wanted to.

Many rumors went around that we were a thing, but we both knew it was just middle school drama. Nothing but friends, for 5 years. I mean of course, when a teenager is a teenager, I came to the realization that my best friend isn't the ugliest guy on the block, a long time ago. But, we never considered being serious. When we were around 16, I started to notice this glint in his eye that was always alarming when I was around. He was becoming a smart kid; I am older than he is by 2 months, I had the right to tell him these things.

"It's 64 days Katniss; you hold hardly any seniority over me." He would joke. He _would_ joke. That is how we are now.

Ever since that night.

About 2 weeks ago, Prim and I were stuck eating the moldy bread and the past expiration date canned goods. My father would take me to the forest about a half a mile from my house when I was younger and show me how to shoot a bow and arrow, so I had the hunting experience from my past. Whenever I did leave, my mother did not even notice when I left.

Mom returned to work as a nurse two months later, but never had the same look in her eyes. She was deep in depression, never to return. Eventually she had some salary to help pay the mortgage and keep the electricity on. When the electricity did shut off, I would walk the silent half a mile with Prim to Peeta's house and sit around his fireplace watching something on Cartoon Network.

I would go out to the outskirts of town with the bow and arrows that my dad gave me. I would trade Mr. Mellark meat for bread, which was mainly our sustenance. Peeta joined me sometimes, even though his footsteps scared away any living animal in a mile radius.

That spring day was exceptionally cloudy and the rain filled every crevice in the ground. Prim was now 13, in middle school, and was home with my mom. She joined me out in the woods occasionally, but she had homework. Peeta and I left right after the shift at the bakery, both looking forward to some fresh meat, even though the store-bought stuff was at home.

A half a mile into the trees, Peeta pointed to the bird in the tree to his left. I pulled an arrow out from behind, aimed and apparently, there were two side by side, the arrow got both. Never had that. The birds fell simultaneously to the ground, while I stood shocked. I feel Peeta pull me into a comfortable hug as he whispers into my left ear, "Good job, Kat." His hot breath sent foreign goose bumps up my left side and he smiled that full-teethed grin. I easily returned that gesture and proceeded to the birds to put in my game bag.

Unexpected many things are. For example, the root hidden under the brush that lead to my fall to the grou-, nope. I fell on my lovely friend Peeta. We looked into each other's eyes and laughed so hard that I could feel his well-defined chest underneath me. I caught a breath and something clicked, which led to a very heated competition of who could take the other person's shirt off first. For the first time, our lips came together comfortably but grew to a fight for domination between our tongues.

30 minutes later, I could say that Peeta definitely used some sort of fruity shampoo and he was my first time.

So here I am. In my bathroom. Holding a pathetic white stick that I just peed on. Waiting the outskirts of time for a little red plus sign. Why would this happen to me, I mean with my best friend. My life had been so hung up on the idea of _love_ after my dad died, and how it can only be a disadvantage. I witnessed my mother go into complete darkness after my Dad passed away, and my life goal has been to avoid love. With the one exception of Prim, and maybe Peeta, I have succeeded. Now, I have the possibility of bringing another life into this world, where you never know what could be hiding around a corner or following you home. I would not be worthless as a mother, better than my own mother would. I have cared for Prim and babysat for kids in my neighborhood for some extra help. Being called Mom, and having a Dad to my child? It was crazy.

Lost in my thoughts, the red plus sign was waiting for recognition.

I am Pregnant. It cannot be that different, I have the experience, right? I'm 17 and pregnant. I slowly drag my back down the wall I was resting on. What would other people think? I will be the one everyone sees in the halls that viewed as a Slut and Whore. I will be the one that gets the dirty looks. Majority of my junior class has had sex more times than I can count on all my fingers and toes, there was no doubting that. The one time, one time, I do, this happens. There is abortion, but I have written multiple papers in my English class that explained my strong dislike to the murder of an unborn baby. Now I understand those women's backing. Not that I agree.

Who cares what other people think! I have not even told Peeta. What is he going to think? We had talked about how many children we wanted, and I knew that Peeta wanted to be a father, but he did not say anything about _me_ being the mother. I never had wanted to have children. Not that I can do much about it now. What has happened cannot be erased. The feeling of my wet face has apparently gone unnoticed. I wipe my tears and put my shoulders back. _You are Katniss Everdeen. You are pregnant. Your life will never be the same. Everything will be all right… _

The smile shines through the tears when I imagine what our baby would look like; Peeta's blue eyes, my brown hair... His blonde curls, my silver eyes. Thinking of what _our _baby will look like is very similar to thinking if you thought about your brother and yourselves offspring.

I know that I will have to tell Peeta. Opening the bathroom door, a very confused Prim looks up to me. "Are you okay? I heard you crying. You never cry." Prim says with the look that she might already know something she was not supposed to know.

"Everything is alright." I cough through the raspy throat from the crying.

"Okay, I might be just your little sister, but I am more understanding than I seem." Prim is someone that always has your back, even when it takes more effort for her to keep up a friendly environment. She has a natural happy spirit that makes you want to spill every problem you have and let her soak it in. But not this time.

I smile back at her while wiping away the last of my tears. "Thanks. I love you, but I need to go talk to Pe-eta." It is hard to say his name under the circumstance.

She nods and gets out of my way. I put on one of Peeta's pullovers and lace up my beat up converse shoes, and grab my Nokia block phone from before my time.

I am walking into this downfall of rain to the most difficult conversation I will ever have.

I live in the west side of town called the Seam, where many of the poorer people live. Thankfully, we were blessed with keeping the old house from before Dad died, for which we were very thankful. It was a one story house built in the 60's or 70's with its still defined style from when my parents were happily married and had bought the house shortly after they said 'I do'. One bad side to that was the walk to Peeta's was about 10 minutes, and it did not seem long enough. I wanted to just walk, walk, walk, and avoid everything to do with my life. I had not spoken with him for two weeks and this was going to be an awkward coming together. He could never look me in the eye during the classes we shared, and I could not either. People must have taken notice because usually we would make stupid faces at each other to see who get in trouble first from laughing too loudly.

Peeta lived in the upper class housing sector just beside me. He and his family moved here 2 years ago after their bakery was a successful way of profit. Peeta has two brothers, Rylie (we call him Rye), who is a senior and _ who lives upstate working at some fancy law firm. I spent most time at his first house, so it even took me some time to get used to the high ceilings and the polished hardwood floors.

The walk has gone by in a breeze and now I stand, red and puffied face in front of the Mellark's house under the porch. On the way, all I thought was how do I tell Peeta this. _Hey, just to let you know, you are going to be a father. _No. _I am sorry, but you are the father. I am pregnant. _No. _Remember that one time in the woods?_ Of course he does. I guess that just winging it would be a good idea; I have known Peeta for long enough.

_Just knock Katniss. _My knuckles make contact with the door right when the door swings open.

Peeta's POV

My bedroom window is right above the front door so I could see Katniss trudging through the rain to my door. I run down the two flights of stairs to the door and open. Her fist almost made contact with the door and I see her face is wet from not the rain but tears. I do what I would do with any girl I have loved since I was five; I pull her into a hug that she melts into arms.

"Let's get you out of the rain." I whisper into her hood-covered ear.

"Thanks," She says fighting through a thick throat. I cannot help myself from realizing how beautiful she looks when she is distressed. I grab her hand and lead her to my room, but she fights against it. I know that look in her eyes that she wants to say something. We have not talked for a couple of weeks. We _never _do that. I hope that this does not have to do with that night. It was something I had imagined in my teenager head for a quite awhile. I could tell she felt so ashamed after, the way she ran away so quickly.

I open the door to my sunset colored room and she flops on my bed with her face in my pillow. This is not her. This is not the normal Katniss.

"Okay what is wrong," I beg.

"I don't know how to tell you," She muffles into the pillow.

"Well first of all, you need to take your face off of my pillow; I can not hear anything you are saying." She does not move. Okay maybe she is still as stubborn as before. "Katniss," I plead, while she pulls her soaked hood away from her hair and takes it off. "Are you cold? You know that you can borrow whatever you want from me." She silently nods and I walk to my closet and pull out a Louisville Kentucky sweatshirt that always sits at the front of my closet. It is between my jeans and shoes, same place it has been for years. Right where Katniss can find it. She slips it over her head and combs out her hair with her fingers and braids it into the signature braid.

She crosses one leg under the other so she sits Indian style on my bed. I reciprocate and grab both her hands. "Tell me, whatever it is, I won't be mad." I soothe. The internal conflict she is undergoing can clearly be seen on the outside.

"Promise?"

"Promise." I start to rub circles onto her hands, something she has become accustom to over the years. I love the way she can look so conflicted and so at ease within the same sentence. "Always." Her face fluctuates with the word and I mentally hit the back of my head. _Not now Peeta Mellark_, I don't think she wants to be reminded of that night.

She studies my face one last time and shakily inhales, "I'm pregnant."

What?

A little recap.

They both finished their junior year. This chapter takes place a week after school gets out. Katniss' birthday is May 8th, and she conceived the baby just after her birthday.

Peeta's birthday is July 11th, very fittingly 64 days after Katniss.

A/N, so anybody that followed my last story, I'm sorry that I have not updated, this was this thought process was so heavily waited on me that with the help of Peeta'sPearl18, this revelation was born. So if you have any feedback, can you review? If there is anything, you want to see in this, just type it up. Thanks people!

-Britt(:


	2. Reaction

I love how much response this is getting. Thank you so much for the reviewers! Keep reading.

Ohh and I'm not putting a disclaimer on every chapter, if you are curious it's on the first chapter.

Should I only switch between Katniss and Peeta point of views? Or do like Prim and her mom and Peeta's brothers? ETC…. I want to know!

Starts out with Peeta's POV.

_Okay Peeta. Breathe_. You don't even know the full story, just get the oxygen to your lungs. In. Out. In. Out. No that sounds too sexual.

"Wh- Ho- You- Pre- No." I can't even get a sentence, let alone a word, out of my mouth. It is just a mumble jumble of a mess. She sits a foot away from me with her head on the sheets between her legs. I close the distance and look at her brown luscious hair. The hair that captivated me 11 years ago in her two braids instead of one. The hair she took out of her braid that night. The hair I caressed repeatedly. _That night. Oh God. _"Am I... The?"

"Yeah," she interrupts. Mixed emotions fill me. Honestly I have always wanted children with Katniss, later, and when we were ready to start a family after we were married and had long time ago rode into the eternal sunset of happiness and bliss. I'm not even 17 and my damn semen and damn emotions caused a life merged by Katniss and I.

My hearing has seized and all I can comprehend is every baby I have held, all the cries of children I have heard, the temper tantrums I see in Wal-Mart. That is going to be me with my baby. With my, correction our, beautiful Katniss look-a-like. I hope it is a girl so it can look as much like her as possible.

I remove my stare from a blank spot on the wall and glance at my child's mother, distressed and pregnant. How is she with this? I mean it's easy for me to stand on the sidelines and look like nothing about this situation has any connection to me. But, Katniss. In High School. Pregnant. Oh God. "Just a second," I excuse myself from the room to the bathroom. Kneeling by the toilet, I empty whatever was in stomach and wait a few minutes to brush my teeth and gargle some mouthwash. My head is spinning with all the great news I have learned.

Opening the door, Katniss stands with her hand over her mouth with big eyes and I quickly get out of her way. She repeats what I just did and I go and awkwardly pull her hair away from her face.

"Morning sickness." She smiles and gurgles some mouthwash to get the acidic taste out of her mouth.

"Its 9 O'clock."

"More like it hits whenever is the least inconvenient for me-sickness."

We walk back to my bedroom her in front of me. I can't wait until her steps into waddles. We go back to lay on my bed and we both do the same ritual we always have. I lay with my left ear on a pillow and she lays her right ear on the other pillow. So many conversations have occurred in this position, and this may be the most important of them all.

"Does anybody else know?" I question.

"You are the first to know, I thought that was the only right thing to do. I mean half of this is your fault." She grimaces after, which makes me wonder if she _is_ upset with me or it's a forced smile.

"Well, if it's okay with you, let's not tell anyone about this right now at school. Not that I care what other people think." I really do not want her to get any kind of pressure from the kids at school. They are brutal.

"Peeta." She says.

"Yes?"

"School got out a week ago."

"Oh yeah… that's right." Man am I stupid? "Isn't there certain vitamins you are to take? Like prenatal stuff?"

"Yeah, but that means I would have to tell my mom."

"Whatever you need help with, just know where I am. I have my phone too." I pull out my iPhone from my pocket and she grabs her brick of phone off the bedside table.

"I guess I have mine…" She waves it in the air and I laugh. The cloudy-likeness in her eyes is clearing as she chuckles at her own joke. Her expression transforms again as it takes a new serious mode. "Are you okay with all this? I mean it is a lot to take in. It's just…" She buries her face into the pillow and trails off. I know she wants me to question her.

"What's wrong?"

"What isn't wrong? Now, I don't really have an option. I will have this kid and love it. Defying both of my mantras. You especially knew that I didn't want kids, and thought love can be a weakness." Where is this coming from? "Will you- be there with me?"

"Katniss Everdeen, when was I ever one to leave? Of course. You are still my best friend no matter what happens between us. I will always there for you, whenever you want me to be." Reaching out I stroke her up faced cheek, and she melts into my touch.

"Then I will try to be the best I can be." She says and closes her eyes.

"You are the best you can be." I kiss her cheek and she molds into my position.

We fall asleep just like that.

So do you want little chapters updated frequently, or long chapters weekly-ish?

Tell me. Thanks.


	3. Will You?

**A/N So thank you thank you thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and followers. It seems that this story is a lot of just dialogue and has covered only a few days, but it has to happen in order for the rest of the story to pan out. On with the story, enjoy (: **

_A little girl darts through the woods while her hair, flowing long, sways with the wind. Her hand is tightly wrapped around a bigger hand that belongs to the dad. They dance and run and swing and jump with eternal smiles plastered on their faces. A round of "ring around the roses" takes place, when I join them. I grasp onto the hand of the girl and sense nothing. She is not even here. She was not here. _

_I just saw her little body proportioned with her lengthy hair and those blue eyes. "Where did she go?" I ask her father, no response. "Well don't just stand there!" I am frantically running so fast that I trip over my own feet and land on top of Peeta, the father. "Peeta. Let's go." I utter more sternly. _

_"She's gone," Is all he says. _

_"What do you mean?" I stare off into nothing, contemplating the truthfulness of this. _

_"You don't deserve her." He continues, "You are too young for parenting." _

_No. No. No. _

_"Peeta! You took her! I want her back!" I call 911, but I cannot get too far with the number buttons are missing. The last logical option is to scream. This is what I do. _

"Wake up." My world of vision is swinging back and forth with a sudden jerking movement. "It's just a dream."

"I have to find her." I respond in my subconscious, my chest feeling very compressed. The sensation of a hand on my abdomen takes me back to reality.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It was different. Different from every dream I have had since he died. It didn't have my dad in it…"

"Then who?'

"A little girl that looked like both of us, and she disappeared and I couldn't do anything about it."

"Well, no need to worry. She is right here," feeling each word on the patch of skin behind my ear. I finally open my eyes and notice the sea of blue swaying underneath me with my hands placed to the side of the face. Tilting my neck down I catch sight of the hand on my stomach and the spark it produces. The same feeling that came when he played with my hair and kissed my cheek last night. The sensation subsides when Peeta removes his hand, probably knowing this would make me feel awkward in just about any situation.

"Uhh, keep doing that." He puts his hand back and does not try to push me off from him, and neither do I want him to.

"I woke up baker's time. I- I just can-n't believe that I helped make a human life. To a girl, it is more realistic because you go to baby showers and have that small feeling inside that you know you could possibly have a child inside of you, and yeah. The boys just stand on the side and watch. It's just… It _is_ amazing." He finishes and takes his hand off for a second, "and according to what you were mumbling, you think its, a girl?" I smirk and pull myself off and over to the side of him because I am in no way subject to do this.

'Somebody was using their time to do some heavy thinking, I see?" He smiles and bends his arms behind him so his hands are behind his head. "But still able to hear my mumbles."

"It's not the first time I have heard you talk in your sleep, Katniss."

_I think back to the first time Peeta slept over at my house. In my bed. We were twelve at the time and only a couple of months after dad died. I was cursed with terrible nightmares of different scenarios of my father's death. Explosions where his blood splattered, knife wounds, gunshots; everything. Anything that can make life gruesome happened in my subconscious. That night my mom came home very drunk and very unaware that Peeta or anyone was in my bedroom. He chuckled his pre-teeny laugh at my mother's drunken state and told me that I should go to sleep. We were great friends, but I had never had a boy sleep with me since my dad died. Prim always accompanied me through the night, but recently, I started thrashing and screaming under the sheets and hurt her without knowing. Peeta told me he wasn't afraid, and I said that we could have a sleepover. _

_After multiple bowls of popcorn and three different comedies, we felt our eyelids droop and we fell into sleep. Like always, the nightmares came and the thrashing hit. Literally. I socked Peeta right in the gut as I was fighting off multiple gunmen for my father's safety. Apparently, I mumbled multiple nonsenses and Peeta grew used to this occurrence._

I smile at the memory and look over to Peeta who is fiddling with the settings on his phone. "Remember the first time you spent the night?"

"I think my stomach remembers better." He jokes with his hand grasping his stomach.

"Did I ever apologize for that?"

"Yeah, about a million times, but I don't mind another."

"Im sorry," I say while simultaneously hitting him in the gut.

"Kat you better be happy you're pregnant, or I would hit you so hard…"

"Ha ha," I respond sarcastically. "And yes, I do think it's a girl. Isn't there something called Mother's intuition?"

"Probably. Why are you asking me?"

"Isn't it weird that in less than 9 months you are going to be officially a dad? Bet you didn't expect _that_ in your near future a couple of days ago." I playfully slap his arm and he feigns hurt.

The familiar rising footsteps on the stairs can be heard about a mile away, a trait that runs in the Mellark family, and nonetheless are Rye's. I know his routine. He is going to knock on Peeta's door and make moaning sounds with his mouth adjacent to the wood of the door. Never have I came over and not been encountered with the wonders of Rye Mellark.

Peeta leans in closer and whispers the answer to the question, "I expected, but not this early." Confusion? "Honestly, I'm real excited." He uses his arms for leverage and rest his back on the headboard behind.

The screen on my phone lights up and I see a text message from Prim on my phone. I had used the extra money from the bakery to get Prim a phone, neither us had anything too modern. It reads, **Hungry. Can you get me something to eat? I bet Peeta won't mind. Tell him Hi. (; **Oh the joys of having a teenage sister thinking that Peeta is that much of a gentleman. "Prim says Hi." He nods and I reply, **He says hi. I will see what is happening. So probably yes little duck. **

Taking my eyes off the screen, Peeta fidgets with his hair, circling the multiple curls with his fingers, a nervous habit he has had as far back as I can remember. "Did you tell Prim?"

Is he serious? "Yep. Sure did. I took the responsible and mature action and told my sister that she would be an aunt over a text because I think that she doesn't deserve the respect." He senses my sarcastic snappy tones and puts his hands up in mock defense.

"Isn't there such thing as pregnancy hormones?"

"Isn't there such thing as…?" Im cut off by a sudden wave of sickness that makes my head spin. I pull my sleep shorts off under the blankets and pull out a pair of jeans to put on. I wonder how long these will fit.

Rushing to the bathroom, I do my thing. Gargle. Rinse. Brush my hair. Wipe the crusties between my eyes and walk back to the room. Rye sits on the beanbag beside Peeta's queen size bed while starting the moaning. I walk up to his side and kick him. In the nards. Hard.

"Go away. Bye. Rye." In Peeta's eyes, I know that he is sad his brother is going off to college at the end of the summer. Honestly, I am too. He is the brother I never had.

"What's wrong Moody? Finally come to your senses and realize my brother is ugly?" Rye is curious about anything that he knows he won't understand, and will not get the opportunity to know of.

"I think its food poisoning, or that I thought of your face this morning. Either one." I lie. I hope that he is too dumb to question that.

"O-o-o-okay. Whatever you have to do," then lifts himself off the beanbag, walks out and shuts the door with another obnoxious moan.

"That was close."

We are going to tell everyone soon, the people we trust?"

"Of course. Its not like I can hide out forever, I have to go to school in 3 months. Oh God, Im going to be 4 and a half months in."

"That is true Kat."

"Im hungry," I say within a yawn. _(Okay I just typed that and yawned. Did you?)_ Maybe I can play the whole 'pregnancy cravings' card, because damn I want deep fried pickles. "Can we go to Sonic? I want their deep fried pickles."

"Seriously? It's 10 in the morning."

I point to my stomach and raise my eyebrows. Pushing my bottom lip out, I pout and shake my shoulders up and down. "Please?"

"Let me grab my keys." Success. He pushed himself out of the blankets and I have this unnatural want to stare at his butt. What? I grab my phone and text Prim, **Going to Sonic, what do you want? **

After a 5-minute drive to Sonic, we decided that we would tell Prim. Prim always gave into bribing, not that we needed to keep her from doing anything. We decided on a slush and what she said was the most spectacular thing, the foot long hot dog, and continued the drive to my dumpy house in the seam.

"Katniss, don't worry, everything will be fine. Honestly, im more worried she will get too excited and hurt herself." He chuckles and opens his door while I grab Prim's bag and drink out of the cup holder. The hot air hits me when Peeta opens my door.

"I'm 9 weeks pregnant, not handicapped." He shrugged it off and stood by my side with our hands awkwardly touching. His hand grasps my fingers, squeezes them, and smiles that cheeky grin.

"Primmmmmmm!" I yell while opening the door. I knew mom wouldn't be here because her nursing shift was early in the morning. The little duck walks down the hall with her hair sticking out in every which way and her sleep shorts hanging loosely around her waist. Peeta's hand was connected to mine, and I could feel the vibration of his internal laughter from the sight of Prim.

"What?" She moans, and I wave the slushie from left to right and in an instant, she wakes up. "Thank you Peeta!" She says while wrapping around his waist.

"Eh-Hum!" I cough and she looks up and rolls her eyes. I roll my eyes back and she walks to the tattered couch, pulls out the hot dog, and starts to eat it. "Hey Prim. Umm, Peeta and I have some news to share."

"Okay" she says through a mouth full of food. I sit right next to her hip and turn my body so im looking right into her eyes.

"Umm. Im… pregnant," I drag the 't' and can't shake the warm particles of wiener off my face that were just spit on my face. Prim's eyes glaze over and her mouth hangs open. I look to Peeta and my confusion shows on his face. I wait a minute for a response from Prim. She is mature for her age, but she is not the kind of person to judge. Peeta scoots closer and starts to wipe the mush off my face. I chuckle and he says he is going to get a wet washcloth to clean my face. Prim unknowingly follows Peeta with her eyes and looks to me.

"Is he… the father?" Her head nods toward the kitchen, and I understand the body language.

"Yes."

Her head moves up and down and she starts to fidget with her fingers, and then abruptly stops. "Im going to be an aunt. Prim is going to be an aunt."

"I guess it is a good time to start talking about yourself in third person."

"Katniss! Can I plan the baby shower? What if it's a girl? You should name it after me. Or a boy? Maybe like Prim is some masculine form. Ooh! Peeta junior! We should paint the room for the baby pink, either way. Then we could set up everything… blah blah blah." She rambles on for about a minute until she jumps up and attacks Peeta with her excitement. "You? With my sister? I knew it!" Peeta looks to Prim with questioning eyes while making his way to me. He wipes the junk off my face as I continue to listen Prim's rambling. "You need to tell mom soon, she is a nurse. They know all about the vitamins and stuff."

"I knew it!" Peeta almost yells with his knowing tone.

"Whatever. Hey Prim, could you help me tell mom?"

"Sure thing. I mean I have to respect my sister 'with child'," she says with air quotes.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Prim, Peeta and I stay in for the day, Peeta claiming that I need to take it easy with my 'state of being'. Waiting for my mother to come home from work at the hospital, we pass the time with a game of Monopoly and watching reality television. Prim texts her best friend Rue constantly, even though I told her not to say anything to her friend, then ends up going to her room when Rue calls her, leaving Peeta and I sitting alone watching reruns of SpongeBob episodes.

Right after Sandy attacks Patrick with her Ka-Rah-Tae, the recognizable unlocking of the door can be heard. Silently, I bow my head to say a quiet prayer. Looking up, my mother stands in her familiar Scooby doo scrubs and puts her keys in the bowl by the front door.

"Well hello Peeta." She says with her usual monotone voice.

"Good evening Suzanne," Peeta replies. My mom had a liking to Peeta, saying she was friends with his dad in the 80s, who acted just like Peeta does today. I mean who wouldn't like Peeta? He could strike up a conversation with a mute woman if he wanted to. The calm demeanor that saturated everything part of him made him one the greatest people. Not too shabby am I in picking out friends.

"Mom! Mom! Mom! I have good news, well actually Katniss does. You probably want to sit down you look exhausted because I can get you some coffee or water or tea or anything you want just the way you like it. How was work did you get any weird patients, save anyone's lives?"

"Primrose. Breathe." My mother looks to Prim with wide eyes, and I can't even understand how Prim can say that many words in one breath. "There is no need to rush," she says slowly while rubbing her temples.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Peeta and I explain our findings from yesterday and I cannot for the life of me read my mom's expression from her face. She glares at Peeta once or twice, I can't blame her. He is the one that got her daughter knocked up. In between our sentences, Prim squeals sounds of giddiness and how excited she is.

"Katniss, when did conception occur?" Her voice is formal and business-like, the voice she uses with patients. I fight the urge to cover Prim's virgin ears, or shoo her out of the room, but I count against it.

"Mid-April," honestly I don't remember the date, but they say 'April showers, May flowers,' and it was definitely raining. I sneak a glance at Peeta and can sense his awkwardness from a mile away.

Trying to count something with her fingers, she say, "That puts you at about 9 or 10 weeks, meaning you need an ultrasound and hefty dose of prenatal vitamins for the ones you missed." She looks up timidly and asks, "Did you use protection?"

Then, I say, "No, we were kind of spontaneous." _Seriously Katniss?_ I shiver at my words and continue to bite on the inside of my cheek.

"Tomorrow you will go to work with me and I will get you an appointment for that day."

"Actually," he speaks up, "I work tomorrow morning and I had planned on being there with Katniss."

"Peeta it will be nothing exciting, really. The baby would be unrecognizable."

"Mom, I want him. To be there with me, I don't want to go alone."

"Prim can go with you," mom counters.

She would come with us anyway."

"Fine. My shift starts at 6 young man" She says pointedly to him, "check with your father to get the time off."

"No problem, Do you mind if I stay over?"

"No more harm can be made…" She informs us while lifting herself off the chair and exits to her room.

Peeta looks over at me and then Prim and looks shocked at our faces. "Well, that wasn't as terrible as I thought it would be, it is the most I think I have ever your mom say. Ever. Now onto my family." He states. He was right, but it shocked me on how blunt it came about my mother.

"Sure Peeta, do you want to go over to your house and get some clothes? I don't see anything holding us back from explaining now."

"Except for the fact that I locked my keys in my car."

"Seriously Peeta?"

"Yeah…"

"Well we can walk I guess."

We walk the walk with comfortable linked hands and right in front of his house, he questions me about doing this tonight and I oblige whole-heartedly.

Everything goes fine except Peeta's mom wouldn't even look at me the whole time. Whatever, is it because your granddaughter is going to take the money out of your greedy hands? Sorry. Peeta runs up to his room to grab some clothes, leaving his dad and me looking at each other.

"She isn't good with change. Give her some time, she loves babies anyways." He winks a familiar wink, I go to grab the spare set of keys for the car, and we walk back. It is a comfortable silence, both of us heavily engrossed in thought. So much happened today and I hardly got out of the house. I could feel the heat radiating from our once again linked hands and wonder what he is thinking. When he takes a deep breath in, I brace for what he is going to say.

"Katniss?"

"Mhmm?"

"I love you."

"I know, you have told me that for years." The streetlights are the only source of light because it is almost 10 at night, making it hard to read the emotion from his face.

"I mean, I _really _love you. I have for years."

"I know, for five to be exact." I squeeze his hand and he smiles.

"No twelve to be exact."

"What do you mean?"

"Ever since the first day of kindergarten when you were in my class, I have always seen something so untouchable to every girl in the world. How you loved so deeply, and fought with so much strength. You showed up with your hair in two braids instead of one, wearing a red plaid dress. My dad pointed you out when we were waiting to line up."

"Your father? Why?" I ask.

"He said, 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with someone else.'" Peeta says.

"What? You're making that up!" I exclaim.

"No true story." Peeta says. "And I said, 'Why did she choose someone else when she could have had you?' And he said, 'Because when he sings… even the birds stop to listen.'"

"That's true. They did," I say. It is surprising how true this is, because I remember that dress being made into rag towels after we did not have much left to work with.

"So that day, in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your little hand shot straight up in the air. Mrs. Walker stood you up on a stool and had you sing for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent," Peeta says.

"Oh, please." I say, laughing.

"No really. And right when your song ended, I knew- just like your mother- I was a goner," Peeta says. "Then for the next seven years, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you. So in a way, when your father died, it was a real piece of luck."

"You remember that day better than I do."

"I remembered everything about you. I love you more than life. I want it to be official with the baby that you didn't just hook up with someone, for a little fling. I want to be there for you, more than I have before. With that, I would love to be your boyfriend." We have stopped walking early in the conversation and I must look stunned because he starts to kick the pavement under his feet. I mean, could I see myself as Peeta Mellark's girlfriend? I can't help myself to think about what it would feel like to have his lips on my mine once more and to have someone to care for me in that way, for more than one night. To be Katniss and her baby against the world did seem a little alarming, and I would not mind being known as his girlfriend. I would definitely seem more legitimate to everyone else if I had a boyfriend and a pregnant belly than the alternative.

He seems to be disappointed in the pause that is occurring, and come so close that are noses are touching. I murmur the only words that would sound right in this situation, "Yes, Peeta Mellark, I would love to have you as my boyfriend," wrap both my arms around his neck, and on my tip-toes, I kiss him with the most passion I could ever muster.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sonic, SpongeBob, or Monopoly **

**Yep it was meant to be, duh this is an Everlark story. But everything is not all dandy and chipper with the happy little trio. So wait and see. REVIEW PLEASE! I LOVE REVIEWS MORE THAN ANYTHING. See you next time. (: **


	4. School Isn't Out For The Summer

A/N The realization came to me that I like fluff, and I cannot find a way to have a main conflict within this. Can you please give me some ideas? I will bet you 20 bucks Suzanne went to her 'people' for ideas when she hit writer's block. MAYDAY. DOES SOMEONE WANT TO CO-WRITE THIS WITH ME? I will not bite...

Also, I read A LOT of Fan fiction. If any ideas sound familiar to you, they probably are. Inspiration has to come somewhere!

Read the best story on fan fiction, it is called **'Do Not Go Gentle' by Dracisalooker76**. It seriously is like reading The Hunger Games. (Like the writing style and concept of Peeta and Katniss' dynamic relationship.) Seriously,** I did my book report on it for my Sophomore English class**, it was THAT GOOD. Dracoisalooker76

Anyway.

Long overdue.

XXxxxXxXxXxXxxxXxXxxxXxXxXxx xXxXxXxXxXxXxxxxXXxxXXXX

Last night, Peeta Mellark asked me to be his girlfriend. I have never felt more flattered to be that big of a part in his life. Why me? He was so observant from when we kids. He remembered exactly, _exactly _what I was wearing, how I had my hair, and that I sang. How? Why? Well, I guess it is obvious now, but how did _I_ not notice? His submissiveness amongst the trees should have been a signal, how he would sacrifice anything for me. How the niceness he has is so great, and how he is still somewhat of a mystery to me. It is overwhelming how many good quality that boy has.

It is overwhelming how many good qualities our, _could be, _baby Mellark could have.

Now, I lay on my side tucked in Peeta with my backside against his front. It seems comfortable, I am meant to be here. With my boyfriend… and Prim. As soon as we had come home from our '_walk'_, Prim announced that Mom felt stressed and went to the bar to get drunk. Sometimes, she gets so hammered she will beat on Prim when I am not there to be my sister's defense. After some begging and explaining, Prim was welcomed with open ours to our slumber party, which wasn't much of a party. I ended up puking more than any time that I can remember, and I passed out the minute Peeta jumbled himself around me.

Untangling our limbs, I raise my arms behind my back and stretch like Buttercup. If Prim was not so in love with the damn thing, it'd be shot and properly disposed of by morning.

Looking to the alarm clock on the bedside table, it reads 5:20; ten minutes before it was set to go off at. Ever since I was in 4th grade, when I would set my alarm for morning, the habit formed of me waking up 10 to 15 minutes before it actually went off. Exact. In this position, I get the time to self-assess, look at my surroundings, and wake up. I do not wake up this early. Ever. Yet, I feel more rested than any other day. I sit my back against the headboard with unshakable giddiness. Peeta being here could easily explain it, but it undoubtedly caused by Prim, here unharmed.

Throughout the years, mixed in with the repeated dreams of my father's death, Prim would make frequent reappearances. In my mind, she would be the victim to anything and everything an eight year should not have to endure. It was so realistic, her drowning in her never ending screams of agony. Or watching her be killed in the car accident with my father, leaving me alone. But that one. She is strong; she isn't leaving that easily.

At the foot of the bed, her left side overhangs the bed frame while the right is mixed in with the rummaged blankets and Peeta's bare feet. She is safe, and very much alive, nothing like the many deaths I witnessed in the night.

Wait, I didn't wake up a single time with a nightmare. A rare thing for me. A new, unattainable concept since my middle school years. Peeta's closeness is a change in scenery; definitely a changed variable along with the baby.

A full night sleep? Im taking this moment to enjoy it, because it hasn't happened before, and soon I will be up in the night with some bundle of joy crying.

Could this be similar to what I would wake up to in a few years? My child curled up at the foot of the bed when it has nightmares? My husband filling the space close to me? _Katniss. Slow Down. Marriage? _I might contradict myself with my inhabited womb, but marriage is serious. You take it serious, because that's what it was many years ago, and tradition is good. Tradition is that God created it with meaning, for two people to come together. Permanently. Could I? Even think of marriage? The love part in marriage is so stressful.

Still in contentment, I rub the sleep out of my eyes and become the creeper. The bird's eye view of Peeta is practical, at the least. Looking through the 'just friends' glasses for so many years, I never took the time to look at his amazing features. His long eyelashes flitter together, and while defying all odds, stay tangle free. I run my hand through my unbraided hair and pull the knots out, trying to figure that out. His breathing is steady with the occasional nasal snort, so I mold back into my position with him, and he subconsciously wraps himself around. Moving my hands down his bare back, the skin is so unnaturally smooth, but the defined creases of his muscles are so mind-boggling, I continue to rub my fingers over them. He sighs in contentment, probably not even realizing. Rubbing continuous circles down his skin, I make the mental note to remember this trait. Nuzzling my face into his chest, I smell the definite cinnamon and dill on his skin. _I wonder if this is how I smell. I work at the bakery almost as much. _

I feel as if I am the beach right and Peeta is the water that meets the sand. How it comes over and kisses the sand just enough to let the beach notice, then drawing back and again mixing into the ocean. Peeta is like that, he is still a bit of a mystery to me. I don't know anything about this side of our relationship. It's like the transition to after marriage where you realize your husband always misses the laundry bin with his dirty underwear, or never washes out his bowl after he eats cereal. And the kisses aren't only included in the metaphor. Peace, gratification and laziness all wash over me.

I hate for the sickness to come to me, but I lay there patting my abdomen and silently saying "Thank you baby", because I don't want to leave this moment. I mean, Peeta has his car, and I doubt that my mom will go to work with the massive hangover she most likely has. So I turn off the alarm, slink into the covers and snuggle in closer.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx XxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Damn it Katniss! We slept in." Peeta says simultaneously while yawning.

"Peeta, my mom has a hangover; she doesn't even leave her room." I respond while motioning down the hall with my arm.

"I just really didn't want to get on her bad side."

"It's not like it would make much of a difference, I don't think she was that happy about the news we told her last night." I rub my abdomen to prove my point.

"You are right. How do you feel this morning, sweetheart?" _Sweetheart, _something my drunken uncle would call me. He lives right next door in a fancy house. He went into a deep depression after his wife, Maysilee, died in a plane crash a couple of years ago. He just drinks himself to sleep every night; he can afford all the alcohol because he created some kind of mechanism where you clap your hands to turn on the lights. His house was filled with them.

"Don't go all Haymitch on me," I murmur as I bring myself close and hover my lips over his.

"It's just because I care as much as he does." He whispers only an inch from my mouth.

"As much?" I question him with my eyebrows raised.

"Alright. Maybe more." He looks into my silver eyes, and mine into his, and presses his lips onto mine. It becomes a lot more vigorous but we break apart when we see a very sleepy Prim looking at us with big eyes. She picks herself off the bed, takes the top comforter and drags the blanket and herself to her room.

"Seriously?" I hear her murmur down the hall. "On the bed, I was laying there." Peeta must hear her too because he lets out a huff and get back in the covers.

"What do you want to do today?" I ask, I have nothing to do and my next shift at the bakery is in a few days. So is his.

"Stay here with you." He suggested.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXXxx xxXxxxxXxx

The next two months went on pretty uneventful. We had two ultrasounds, but we were obviously too early to know the gender, which I swore up and down was a girl. The morning sickness has decreased but every once in a while I would have to grasp the hips of the porcelain throne and let loose, but I didn't happen as often and harshly. It is the morning of the first day of school, and I have been dreading every moment until. Would I ever think that I would be pregnant now? Definitely No. Especially my one awkward friend who somehow I ran into at the store in late July. Here's my story.

Toward the end of my first year, I dated one of my friends, Gale.

Dumbest idea in the book.

He was someone who helped me out with my father's death and asked me out at school during lunch with my friends surrounding me; Johanna, Madge, Finnick, Annie, and Peeta. I could say peer pressure made me say yes, but it was cool to have a boyfriend. My mind clouded with stupid assumptions, I happily obliged.

Finnick and Annie had been dating since the summer before our freshman year, and now as Seniors, they already had their wedding details picked out. I had the idea that I would be like that with Gale. They completed each other. They both were on the swim team at our school, state champions every year. That is how they met, at the trials to be on the team. Finnick says that Annie was 'the finest piece of girl in her suit.' We just roll our eyes at Finnick's banter. He could not help himself with the petty jokes with the opposite sex. Finnick was known at school as the Fish God because of his swimming abilities and striking good looks. He stood with well-defined muscles and bronze hair at a little over 6 ft, while Annie was a quiet girl, had auburn colored hair and was very petite for her age, standing at 5'2. They balance each other out in appearance and personality and are joined at the hip, never to be separated.

Johanna was easily one of my best friends, along with Madge. We three were a riot when together. Johanna had the strongest personality and probably the strongest girl I have met, in every way. Her younger brother had died about the same time my dad had died, that was when she was in 6th grade, and he was about five. They were playing in one of those kiddie pools in their backyard and he drown while Johanna went to the bathroom leaving him alone. She had felt guilty ever since, and has had a strong fear of water given that experience. She understood death like me, not the 'im sorry for your loss' crap.

Madge also was like me, and very unlike Johanna. She is my cousin, and when our aunt died in a plane crash, Maysilee, it was something we sadly connected over. She didn't turn to drinking like Haymitch, both of ours Uncle, but she became reserved. She was quiet, but kind, and was my main confident. Johanna was rambunctious all times, but when Madge was awake long enough, she got a severe case of the midnight jitters, where the old Madge shined through. I cherished every one of those moments.

Gale and I continued on as the happy little fake couple for three weeks. On the last day of it, we went to a party at Finnick's house. His parents were gone quite often on the weekends, so he held huge parties on the weekend with everyone from the high school. Gale and I ended our relationship when he took me off to one of the many bedrooms in the party house and tried to go farther than kissing. It was bad, and very forced. Gale went from being friendly to straddling over me and pushing with his weight against the bed. It took all my might to scream, and Peeta came to my rescue. He pulled Gale off of me and knocked him out with some 'wrestling maneuver'. During the mix-up, Gale had forcefully ripped my shirt after he unsuccessfully tried to pull it off, and my chest was exposed. Peeta respected me, took off his shirt, and put it on me, then proceeded to pick me up bridal style and carrying me all the way home in the spring weather. That was one of the few times Peeta saw me cry. I rested my face on his chest and fell asleep in his arms, puffy eyed and exhausted.

Ever since the incident, Gale and I had hardly spoken over the last two years, but I always felt his eyes on the back of my head. I felt violated, and hurt, and broken that my once connected friendship with him was severed.

Gale ended up with this slutty girl named Delly Cartwright, and I was alright with that. He left our table during lunch and the tension was released, leaving our perfect group of six better than ever.

When I ran into him at the store, like literally I walked into him and I fell to the ground, he couldn't help but notice my bump. I crossed my fingers that he wouldn't say anything, but those rituals were not affective.

"Catnip?" This was the old name he used to call me when we were dating, "Are y-you pregna-na-nt?

I rolled my eyes at him and picked up all my groceries from the floor to buy some time. "14 weeks today." I replied curtly.

"Oh-oh-okay. See you around. Bye." He started to murmur something under his breath about bread and boys and I all I felt like doing was crumbling to the ground. Gale was the biggest gossip dating the most popular girl in the school. My odds were not in my favor.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx XxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Now as the first of September, I was not happy to be coming back to school. 'Whoopee! Senior year!' They say. What kept me excited was the fact that I have to see what the gender of my baby is. Peeta and I have had running bets on what it is going to be. Im dead set that it's a girl. I have had so many dreams of a little girl in her chubby legs hobbling around the house, playing in the park, singing with a voice a lot like mine, or baking with Peeta at the bakery. It is contagious how one dream leads your thoughts for the day.

I woke up this morning wrapped in Prim's arms. She has had many nightmares lately because I haven't been around as often as I used to. Peeta offers to take her with us, but occasionally I say no. I like Peeta, and only him. My alarm blares at six, but of course its 5:50 when I wake up. I hop in the shower and can only notice how my bump is protruding. I love it. After a quick one, Prim stands at the door waiting to come in, while I stand with the towel still wrapped around.

After, Prim helps pick out my outfit, saying that I can't dress myself if Snow, our president, came and gave me a death threat. _Pssh, Snow. Threatening me? _Prim doesn't have much to work with, my pants with the maternity waistband and maternity shirts and shoes that are too small due to my swollen feet. At least my hunting boots still fit and I honestly do not care that it is still summer. I will wear what I want. My skinny jeans fit, barely, but I stuff myself in them along with a green shirt that hangs loose on me, comfortably, with a cardigan. I braid my hair like always and put some makeup on with Prim's demand.

Prim now goes to the school right next to ours so Peeta is going to pick us both up. Im shaking in my boots, literally, by the time he comes and he gets out of his truck and pulls me into a hug.

"You look beautiful." I feel my cheeks heat up at his flattery, "And it is hard to notice to your bump. I wish people weren't so judgmental, because I love it." He pushes me away ever so slightly to plant a kiss on my forehead.

I look at him and see he is wearing a grey v-neck with dark jeans. He have grown very accustomed to each others obsequiousness, that I even complement saying, "You look pretty too," while I connect my hand with his and use my other to smack his butt. "Payback," I say with a wink.

"Now, now Katniss. Let's continue this after school." He fires and gives me a subtle wink.

I let go of his hand and run up to the door to inform Prim that Peeta is here. "You wish!" I yell from inside to him. "Prim! Time to go!"

"Im coming! Give me a minute!" I hear the buzzing of something in the bathroom probably from her getting ready.

"You look as good as a duck can. You don't need to impress any boys." She walks down the hall in a pink dress with silver shiny flats and does a twirl. Her hair is in ringlets and her makeup is subtle and natural. "Now quack and waddle, and you will be perfect." I bring her into a hug and we run to Peeta's truck together.

"Ready girls?" He questions while leaning on the side of his truck. We squeeze into his truck that has a 3-person front seat, and Prim does not like the back. She fits in-between Peeta and I, while I comfortably stare out the window.

The drive to the school takes about 10 minutes, with all the incoming traffic to the school, not enough time for me to avoid the hellhole they call school.

"Now with the running," he commands pointedly to me, "Don't exert yourself. Don't want to do any harm to my son."

"It's going to be a girl!" Prim demands from between.

"Whatever. It would be our son." I explain and then change the subject. "Im really hungry." The cravings are an understatement. I have eaten nothing but Chinese food from a restaurant just down the street for the past two weeks.

"Maybe, we could do Chinese for lunch?" Peeta knowingly suggests.

I think my posture improves dramatically because my seatbelt locks and I cannot move to make reassuring eye contact with him. "Yes, Yes, Yes." I mumble under my breath. I hear their chuckles and smile to myself, first time this morning to do that. While on the highway, a skunk had the brilliant idea of letting out a stink, and the baby _**does not**_ like skunks. There is no shoulder on this highway, so I have to wait two agonizing minutes for the next exit to show.

Let us put it this way, I feel very sorry for the person that comes and cleans the garbage and road kill, and my bile off the road. Because it is N-A-S-T-Y.

However, the main thought running through my mind is _Thank God this did not happen during class._

**A/N: I know this is a little late, but I wanted this to open up more into the main story line. The summer would be boring to write, so I skipped it because I can! **

**Yeah. Read and Review, and check out the story I mentioned above. AMAZING. **

**See y'all later. **

**(Im not from Texas or the South.) **


	5. Back To School

Chapter 5-Back to School

Killing time, I walk Prim about 50 yards to her school. I walk back with Peeta, shuffle through the halls, sit down in the back, get out my supplies and learn to breathe. Too much work for a pregnant girl. 7:45 is the time of my first class, math. I hate being of the few seniors enrolled in a math class other than calculus and stats. Nevertheless, scheduling errors happen. I assumed if I took a year off of math my freshman year, I would pick myself up because of the break. So now as a senior, I am surrounded my sophomores, and juniors in my Trigonometry class.

Yeah.

Peeta was supportive of the decision, and he sitting next to me is proof.

"Feel better?" He asks obviously thinking a few minutes back where the carsickness and the stench of a skunk did me in. A friendly reminder of how badly my breath tastes teeters me over the edge with sickness.

"Ehh," I drag. "Do you have any gum?" I adjust my face between my arms. The faint sound of him rummaging through his tattered backpack reassures me that I don't have to suffer because of my taste buds.

"Just remember, this is our last year of high school. And for you, you only get a couple more months." I pop the gum in my mouth letting the mint sting my tongue. I exhale and let myself look at him. My smile is forced but it gets the thought of a 'thank you' out to him.

The bell rings as an older man walks in. He has round glasses rested on his small nose, accompanied by half a head of white hair. His stature is lacking and even I standing at 5'8, would top him by a couple of inches. The only expression seen on his face is a semi-toothless grin that spreads from his mouth his eyes. "Hello," He greets jovially, "I am Mr. Potter." Peeta looks to me and I cannot help but chuckle at this man. He has an accent from the mid-west, probably Minnesota, and he stands cracking math jokes at the front of the class.

"This guy might keep me up in the mornings." I gesture to the man explaining how he hid the handkerchief in his disposable thumb.

"Hopefully he doesn't teach at the same quality as his jokes." Peeta jokes.

"Pssh," I mumble while pushing at his arms.

XXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX xXxXxXxX

We part our ways after a non-educational math class. Still not being a fan of public displays of affection, he kisses my check and whispers in my ear, "If you need anything just text me what class you are in and I will be there in a jiffy." He winks and questionably nods.

"Yes Peeta my master. You already know my schedule." I sarcastically say but he knows I am serious. "See you at lunch."

"Chinese?"

"Chinese. Yes!" My stomach moans with satisfaction at the thought of oriental perfection.

"Chinese?" I hear for the third time, a familiar voice asking the question. I see her brown pixie-cut hair through the crowd as she jogs over. "Did you say Chinese food, brainless?" I pivot and come face to face with Johanna Mason.

"Johanna!" I mock excitement and pull her into a hug.

"Katniss, I don't think you have hugged me since middle school. Peeta is rubbing you the right way, apparently." She motions to my ever-growing belly, and I feel my cheeks darken and the weight of Peeta's hand leave mine. "Either your little swimmer is a'growin or you still don't have a restraint for that lamb stew."

"One thing you don't know is," I insisted, "a pregnant girl does not fight the cravings. She rides the wave."

"Alright prego." She grinned, "What is your next class?" I hand her my schedule and she smirks. "May I accompany you to English?"

"Sure Johanna, but you are not saying anything about me being," I lowered my voice, "Pregnant. Please."

"I will try."

"_Try you will." _I quote from one of her favorite movies, and we bursts into laughs.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx XxXxXxXxXxXx

After a boring third hour with a seating chart, furthering the distance between Madge and I, lunch was far from unforgettable.

The Chinese place we went to was boring, and quiet. I have yet to meet up with Finnick and Annie, but the time will come.

I end up in a full out workout backtracking through the school to get to my classes. After lunch, I have fourth with Annie and Finnick, fifth with Madge and sixth with Peeta. So pleasantly, Gale and his slut of a girlfriend Delly sit behind us. Peeta had told me before that Delly and he were great friends before middle school, but she became jealous of me. Ha-Ha.

Listening to my home-ec teacher drag on about the importance of being careful around a 'dangerous' stove, the undeniable feeling of Gale looking at the back of my head is unnerving. I turn around and catch the stare of the creeper. The look he has on his face could start the third world war. Delly's expression the fourth.

"Miss?" I catch in the teacher's speech and realize she is talking to me.

"Mhmm?" I sound.

"What is your name?" She asks in a level voice.

"Katniss Everdeen." I announce proudly.

"Well Katniss Everdeen, it is not good manners to be moving around in your chair while I am speaking." She smiles sweetly, and points her perfectly manicured nails at me. She looks very shallow, but if measured by the amount of makeup she wears, she would be very deep. Layer after layer, the liquid is molting off her face in a clump. She looks hideous. Still, I scan the board and take in the perfectly written cursive letters that read _Effie Trinket. _

_ I know that name. Trinket. Hmm. _

"Yes Mrs. Trinket."

"Ms," she quickly corrects.

XxXxX

Beside my introduction to the class, the end of the day goes by quickly and easily. The class is drowning in the sound of her voice when our savior, the bell, rings.

"See you tomorrow class! Katniss can I talk with you?" Shuffling to the front, I prepare for my punishment. "Don't mind me asking," she says in an undertone, "Are you pregnant?"

I timidly nod and turning around to see Peeta leaning against the doorframe. "Yes I am. Is this a problem?" I ask curiously, and she waves me off.

"Absolutely not my dear!" She exclaims while pulling my shoulders back to fix my posture. "It is never good to slouch."

"Sorry Ms. Trinket, I am at 18 weeks."

"That's just lovely! Is he the father?" She point out the door to Peeta and I nod.

Grabbing her roster, she draws an arrow between Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen. Minutes ticking away, I know Prim is wondering where I am. "I need to pick up my sister from the middle school. It was nice meeting you."

"Same with you my dear. See you tomorrow." She proceeds toward me and hugs me. She must have heard the muffled laugh at the door, so she lets go, and I walk on my way to Peeta. "Bye!"

Halfway to the middle school, Peeta wraps his arm around my neck, and gets about two inches away. The yard is deserted; the only people I see are a blonde haired girl with a boy about 20 yards getting very personal with each other. "So…" Peeta states.

"So…." I question.

"Remember the _thing _we were going to continue before school?" He lets loose his cheeky smile. I tousle his hair and kiss him lightly.

"After school. After school." I cocoon my hand safely in his, and we saunter for a minute or two.

"What happened back there? If I had to explain, it was the most female-contact I have seen from you. Ever!" Peeta declares sarcastically while running away to the middle school. I follow, but I cannot run. More like quickly waddle with my stomach. Peeta stops when he looks to his left. "Hey Katniss!"

Panting deeply I get out "What!" I chase his line of vision and track the blonde-haired girl with the boy. It's Prim! I can tell this is not okay with Peeta because he darts harder than I have ever seen and pulls them apart. I followed closely behind, and I can pick out Prim's wide eyes looking up at Peeta. He starts to lecture her, his hand flailing around to prove his point.

"Prim! What were you doing?" I ask innocently.

"Rory and I… Yeah… You are not my mother!" Rory. He is the brother to Gale. After Gale and I fell apart, Rory always stuck close to Prim. He had a sweet spot for her; he thought they were meant to be. However, for me to witness this with my own eyes, seems put of place.

"Prim, do you want me to give you," he wiggles his eyebrows, "the talk?"

"Eww Peeta! I'm not a kid anymore." She rolls her eyes defiantly, linking her hand with Rory.

"Be careful. That hand might contract a STD if you hold his without protection." Her blush increases as she pulls her hand out of his.

She looks to Rory and mumbles loudly, "Sorry for my sister, and her boyfriend. I hope the baby has the few good qualities that they have. If there are enough…" Our faces must look identical because Prim looks between us and then to my stomach. She grins at her own joke and Rory leaves her with a kiss on the cheek. "You know, you can still name her after me."

"Ha-ha-ha." I answer back honestly.

"You know," Peeta says while walking toward his truck, "That's tomorrow. We get to know who that little buddy is."

"Or Princess," Prim corrects.

"Little Princess Mellark. I like it. And you can be the queen. Queen Katniss. I love _that." _

"We are not naming her princess, or little." I snarl and both look to me like I am crazy.

When we get to my house, Peeta has a shift at the bakery. I was scheduled, but the smell of bread has made me sick recently. I requested it, and it was no problem. Prim and I end up talking about Rory, but transition to the baby. She finds it quite uncomfortable, the conversation we had prior.

"Are you scared?" Prim sits across from me atop of my bed Indian style with her hair in a messy bun. She looks pretty with her hair out of her face.

"Scared? Of what?"

"Being a Mom? Giving birth, raising a child with Peeta, supporting it?"

"Slow down. Being a mom will not be hard with him as the Dad. When we were your age, he would talk about how many kids he wanted. He said he wanted a boy then a girl, or a girl then a boy. His reason was so he could learn to love both genders. You know I am not good with words. What was the next one?" Honestly, I am scared.

"Giving birth?" That one makes me queasier than the actual life of my child.

"If you are somewhere close, I will be fine." I lie, but wink and she laughs.

"Peeta will probably get some of his fingers broken from the death grip you would have on him."

"I have a question for you little duck." She looks more intently and I continue, "Do you like Peeta?" When we were younger, I had asked her permission to be his friend. Not that I need her permission. She was only Prim was such a romantic, she always saw us as perfect for each other in the beginning. I feel that she had always wanted us to be together.

"Honestly, he is different."

"Different?" That was an unusual response from her. "Why is he 'different'?"

"No! Not in a bad way silly! He is different from other boys I know. He… He's perfect."

"Perfect? How is he perfect?"

"Katniss, you are so oblivious."

"To what?" I did not know where she was going with this.

"He really loves you." _He really loves you. _I kept rethinking that when I went to bed alone that night. I had always half-expected that from Peeta. He was such a great friend, but I never considered me loving him. Now with our baby on the way, it seemed we had this whole situation backward. _First comes love, then comes Marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage. _We definitely did the 'breakfast for dinner' thing wrong. I lay on my back coddling my stomach with so many different questions circulating. DO I love him? Would I consider marrying him? DO I want to raise a child with him? It makes my head spin from the thoughts forming and gives me a migraine.

I snuggle into my covers with the light still on, when I hear a _ping! _at the window. Stupid birds. _Ping! _My bare feet connect with the hardwood floor as I head toward the window. The house is two stories, and outside my window, there is part of the roof where it slants from the structure of the house. I unlock the window and pull up. It is loose from all the times I have sat on the makeshift porch. It has the view to the woods, which I am forbidden from for the baby's sake.

I recognize the thump on my forehead, but cannot connect that to the shocked boy standing under the overhang. "What was that for!" I angrily hiss at Peeta.

"Im so sorry! I thought I would come visit you. I took a shower, so hopefully you won't get sick from the bread scent." He is too sweet.

"Come on up bread boy." I step out of the window and feel how humid the air is. It is warmer up here than in my bed. It could always be the boy trying to climb up the vine on the side of the house. "You know… my mom wouldn't care if you just walked into my house."

"Im-Almost-there!" His breathing is heavy.

"Shh! If you are going to be sneaky, don't be so loud!" I carefully pounce over to where Peeta is, and help him up.

"How are you?" He questions while he motions for me to sit. I try to pull my knees to my chest, but it is not happening. He sits next to me and I close the gap. I sit on his lap and rest the side of my face against his chest. I hear his heartbeat, and I try to ignore the fact he is waiting for an answer.

"I talked to Prim about Rory." He pulls out his phone to a text from his mom. After he responds, he looks up at me.

"You are beautiful. I hope you know that."

"How? Im like an oompa loompa."

"I always thought those little creatures were cute. You are paler than they are." I think back to when we would watch Willy Wonka on replay. Yes, we were way too old to watch the movie as freshman. Nevertheless, every time, he would show up with a Wonka chocolate bar, and nerds, almost in honor of our favorite movie. The little people looked like they walked out of Jersey Shore. "Thank goodness we are both pale-skinned. Wouldn't want our baby to look like that." I dryly laugh as he nips at my neck. "You seem tense."

"Peeta." He stops and draws closer to my face. This is something he feels at ease with, apparently. "Im scared."

"With what?" He grabs my fingers loosely, urging me on.

"Life and the fact that I am not only responsible for mine." You would think this being my second trimester would liven the truth that there is a human growing inside, but it only made me anxious. When I first learned of my pregnancy, it did not seem real. It was just a reason behind the nausea and the mood swings. Now. It is starkly different.

"I will be there for you. For everything. Even when you push out the little sucker."

"That. That is what im nervous about."

"Don't they have classes? Birthing classes?" I remember watching shows of comedic scenes between the parents of the child, but life is no television show.

"Yeah they do. Not that that's going to help."

"My Queen Katniss, how do you know that?"

Against who I was, I admitted, "I don't."

"So, what about when we are at the hospital tomorrow, we ask the doctor about where to take the classes. He has to know that kind of stuff."

"Alright," I agreed. "I get to see a new picture of my baby girl."

"Sure, sure. Now come here." He cups my face with both his hands and pulls me in. Our lips connect with that spark I have felt since the first time I met him. Not that I would admit that outloud. I twirl the damp curls at the nap of his neck in-between my fingers and he collects a breath. He moves his hands to my hips right beside my bump. Wearing an oversized sweatshirt and my sleep shorts, every touch ignites a new fire within me. The dark night reminds me how I am exhausted, so I break away. He looks disappointed. "I'm tired." I yawn as he pulls his bottom lip out to signal a pout. I kiss him gently before looking him in the eyes. "Weird that it is a school night."

"Man, I hate education, and its early start-ups." He groans.

"Nah. You just wanted to kiss me."

"Guilty." He admits while softly pushing me off him. "Damn, Im so excited for tomorrow, I can hardly wait."

"Guilty." I grin while finding my balance as I stand. "I don't really like the gel they have to put on me. You should sit in a chair and get that rubbed on your stomach. It's no fun." Shining from inside my room, the light illuminates Peeta's face while he climbs down.

"See you tomorrow." I hear from afar, he must be halfway down the vine.

"Wait!" I demand. He tips his head up and I give him a quick smooch. "I love you." _Wait. I guess that settles my internal dispute from before. _I love Peeta Mellark. I always knew I did. I just did not voice my opinion with love very often.

His eyes flicker with happiness as he changes the direction of his climbing. "Say it again." He smirks, because he knows I do not understand why he is asking.

Why?" He raises an eyebrow, and I get the point. "Yes Peeta Mellark. I love you. Now leave before I change my mind."

"Goodnight. I guess it is my turn. I love you. But you knew that." He announces with undeniable happiness.

_I sure do now. _

XXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX xXxXxXxX

The second day of school was the same as the first, only each class lengthened to 3 hours in my point of view. Our appointment scheduled promptly after school, Peeta literally shook with excitement by our last class. His leg would shake up and down, even after my many failed attempts of holding his legs down. Wrestling increased his muscle mass. That was the problem.

Effie must have caught on to Peeta's uneasiness by how she stopped us at the door. We were the first out and she stood in the hallway like a colorful wave of lime green, the color of suit she wore, and grabbed Peeta by the shoulders. Students walk the perimeter of this interesting spectacle with perverted smirks. _God, I hate high school. _Everyone knows who Peeta is. He is obviously one of the best-looking seniors. By the looks the freshman girls shoot him, it is not only my opinion.

"Peeta, is everything alright?" She sounds each syllable carefully, scared for the response.

"We have a doctor's appointment."

**Yep this is moving very slowly, I get it. However, I plan on this being a LONG story. **

**You get to know what gender the baby will be in the next chapter. YAYYY!**

**See the Rory and Prim action. MHMMM, they went there. So innocent. Ha. **

**Hey and reviews are highly… highly… HIGHLY encouraged. Please. I love them. Moreover, follow and favorite it up. Thanks(: **


	6. Confusion

Chapter 6- Confusion

**Peeta's POV (switching it up. OHH yeah) **

**Ps. Check out Under The Setting Sun by Janerey, Very good. She is really cool too! HEHE**

**Without further ado… **

"Seriously Mom!" I yell into my phone. "I need to be with Katniss for her ultrasound! I can tell you the gender of your grandchild!"

"Peeta. Your brother is on the edge of throwing up his lungs. We need you here at the bakery. Prim is going with her."

"Please?" I plead.

"No. End of discussion," then the line goes dead. I look to a disappointed Katniss and Prim while we stand in the student parking lot. Kids are scurrying to their cars as if it is a game of Pacman. Avoiding confrontation, yet staying on their path to their goal.

Katniss is the first to speak up. "Sometimes I really hate your mom." She says bluntly. "I can tell the doctor that I don't want to know the gender if you aren't with me."

"No. I want you to know. If you tell me when I am at home, I can do my party dance without looking like an imbecile." I attempt to joke.

"Fine." She snaps. "But you are driving me to the doctor's office. Your mom can wait an extra 10 minutes." I chuckle and open the door to my truck. Maybe some kind of over the hood of my truck rollover summersault could cheer them up. I count against it. Instead, when I slide in to my seat, an out of character Katniss is sitting in the middle with Prim at the end. When I pull my seat belt over my waist and put the truck in gear, she snuggles up against me.

"If you don't want to go, don't. I can wait," I lie. I hope that I can hold my bluff better than she can. The art of lying basically taught itself when my mom wanted me to participate in every extra curricular activity under the sun. Science club, math club, anime club, community service hours, and on and on and on. Too much. So when I said that I was volunteering at the Y my junior year, in reality I spent my time after school with my friends. Mainly Katniss. With nothing planned on Fridays, I took my shift at the bakery, with Katniss. Everything was Katniss. Something I had wanted since I was five, and received since I was twelve.

I literally shake the thought out of my head. "It's been green for about 10 seconds. Go." Prim sasses from the side. She must be fed up with Katniss. Another glorious pregnancy symptom; mood swings. It is black and white, the difference. They are only getting worse. She could easily be a bipolar patient.

"I want to go Peeta. You want to know more than I do."

_True. _

"Here is the deal. When you find out, don't text me. I want you to stop at the bakery, and tell me then. Then I can get the full access to you squealing 'it's a boy!' or 'it's a girl!'" I explain dramatically in a high pitch voice very unlike hers.

"I do not talk like that."

"I'd love you anyway." Keeping my eyes on the road, I carefully kiss her hair. "Maybe the baby will inherit your brown hair."

"Blonde hair is so pretty!" Prim yells with a mirrored voice to the one I mimicked. I forgot she was with us. Katniss does that to me.

I turn left into the parking lot, and Katniss stiffens against me. "Hey now. Just because im not going to be there doesn't mean that you cant do this."

"Yeah," she mumbles. "Prim will be there." I pull under the overhang on the building and park. Helping Katniss out of the truck comes with a battle. Planting her feet on the ground, I pull her in for a gentle kiss, but she doesn't kiss me back.

"I promise everything will be alright."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Can we try _that _again?" She smiles for the first time since my mom called, pulls on my neck and kisses me on the cheek. My eyebrows raise a couple inches and she laughs.

"I love you," she whispers against my lips.

"I love you more than you can comprehend." She pecks me on the lips once more and grabs the hand connected to a shocked Prim. She mutters something about how she professed that she loves me and I chuckle under my breath.

_Katniss Everdeen loves me. Let that soak in buddy. _

XxXxXxxxxXx

Rye is off to college, he left a week ago. It was actually a difficult separation, far worse than I expected. Prim actually cried. She loves Rye. Leaven is home sick, apparently. This is his last year of college for his bachelor degree in business. Therefore, when I get to the bakery, I only see a calm figure sitting at the cash register.

"How bad is it?" I question my father. When my mom is stressed, it is like entering a battlefield with additional landmines to avoid.

"She is in the back counting over our sales. Thinks we didn't meet our margin for last month." He smirks. "I already double-checked. We _definitely _met our margins."

I shake my head and head to the back to get a batch of chocolate chip cookie in the oven.

The wait is excruciating. I kept my phone in my pocket at the highest vibration level and volume. Katniss might call. That is all that matters.

Life revolves around Katniss. If I ever were to be left in the dust by her, I would most likely spontaneously combust into an atom of a helpless boy. I pay keen attention to the light din of the radio playing in the background, humming the words. Looking to the clock, only 40 minutes had past. I was done with the cookies, had cleaned the dishes, sat up tomorrow's specialty dough for rising, and started to sweep the floors. "Can I work the counter?" I ask anxiously.

"Sure son." So I sit at the desk with the cash register on the computer. Something new to add to the bakery. _Technology makes us better. _My mother once said. It is all about looks to her. I always was dressed in the nicest clothes, lived in a nice house, did everything scholastically to look good, but my heart was never in what I wanted to do. Not that I could really say what that was. When we told mother than Katniss was pregnant, I think she excused herself from the confrontation to puke. Her reputation was shot; her son knocked a girl up. News spreads fast, her perfect life assumed ruined.

My train of thought gets off track when a familiar girl my age jingles the bell on the door. Bristel Slate, with her perfect blonde hair, and perfect body, seemed to be the perfect girlfriend. We went out for two weeks tops, until I realized it was not going to work out. She is not Katniss.

"Hello Peeta, just who I was looking for." Her obnoxious heels click on the tile as she makes her way to the counter. She is from town, where many of the more prominent reside.

"Hi…" I question cautiously. "Why are you-," before I finish my sentence, she harshly pushes me in for a kiss. Her placement on the wrestling could explain her harshness, but I don't like it either way. I push her away, as I hear a bell ring. "What the hell was that?" I say to her.

"I felt we needed a new start in our relationship." She turns around and in that moment, I swear that a part of me shriveled away and died. I caught the last glimpse of her dark brown braid down her back. Her face was full of excitement with the news she had bottled up, and Bristel Slate had ruined my rare opportunity to experience a lively Katniss.

"God. If I didn't respect girls, I would punch you in the face so hard your slutty lips couldn't ever kiss again!" Her perfect blonde curls bounce up and down as she walks to the door and blows me a kiss off her hand.

Seething with rage is an understatement.

I turn to my Dad, his face full of understanding. "You better run son." I obey and run as fast I can. I break out into a full out sprint through the town until the asphalt turns into pine covered brush. Trees go with Katniss like peanut butter and jelly. Katniss always loved them. When we would hunt in the woods together, I never had the smooth tread. My feet wore lead-soled shoes, scaring away possible game. She would get irritated, put her bow back in the rotted tree on the perimeter, and chase me around. We would go and go and go for hours. When things got serious, hide and seek tag was conjured, the victory was always hers. I could not climb the trees she did, if my life was dependant on it.

That leads to my first clue. There she is. Too easy. She is around twenty feet up, with low and consistent branches leading to her seat.

"Go away." She chokes through her tears.

"I can't." My plant myself on an adjacent branch, giving her adequate room to explode. Instead, she rolls her fingers through her hair and unravels it into a perfect mess. Every ounce of self-control is in use when I try to reach out and touch it. But I don't get near her. She will speak when she speaks.

We sit there, letting the time pass. She inhales, and I brace for impact grasping the trunk of the tree until my knuckles turn white.

"Do you know why I trusted you?" Trust is a sacred topic only accessed in critical arguments.

"No, not specifically."

"It's because you didn't give up on me. You sat there with me during recess in the rain when your friends stood under the tree and laughed at you. You humiliated yourself for me." She whispers, "You were my dandelion in the spring."

"Dandelion in the spring?"

"I saved my lunch money for Prim. After I swatted the apple out of your hand, I went and grabbed it and bit into it. It was the first thing I had eaten all week. I bit into the bruised apple, and the clouds cleared up just enough to let the sun shine on a single dandelion. That is why they are my favorite."

"Why did you trust me after that?"

She furrows her brow, thick in thought. "I knew right then that I could believe you wanted me safe, with out harm. You gave me hope that you wouldn't desert me."

"Do you still trust me?"

"Good question." We sit there staring at each other with confusion. "You think that just because I am your pregnant girlfriend you can just go off with the wrestling girl? Who do you think you are! What do you do with her when I am not around? Hmm! Hmm!"

"Nothing has happened between me and her."

"_Something _happened back there at the bakery. It didn't seem you had any intention to pull back." She takes a deep breath, "One thing Gale didn't do was cheat on me."

"I didn't start it! She came at me!" I am raising my voice, which is foreign to any conversation, or frankly, argument, we ever had. **"You think that your little thing with Gale had anything compared to what we have? Really?"**

"I'm starting to reconsider it."

"Katniss Everdeen, I confessed to you that I loved you since I hardly remember, and you are going to let something like this get in our way?"

"Correction. In _your_ way. Im done with this. I knew that love only was weakness." The tears erode a path on my cheek, with a rapid current. I cannot control anything here. I just lost Katniss.

My Katniss.

She was mine. I was hers.

Defeated is the only feeling I register.

"Okay let's stop yelling at each other." I pause, "So you are telling me that you felt weak, even vulnerable, throughout our relationship?" Silence. She is closed. Not going to speak to me. Typical. "No matter where we stand, we are still going to love our child together."

"You probably want to know what gender, right?" She spits out through gritted teeth.

I scoot over a couple of inches, still avoiding breaking her personal space bubble. Taking the back of my hand, I wipe the tears away. My hands start to shake uncontrollably at the options. Ha-ha, it is either a boy, or a girl. "YES." The words are most likely non-understandable, not that I care.

She smirks a little then switches her expression, then shakes her head and confirms, "She is going to grow up to be your perfect little princess."

**Not the best day for Peeta. **

**I realized that I like the switching of the point of views. Im a girl, so Its… interesting writing from a guy's perspective. **

**Shorter than a normal chapter, but felt it was a nice ending.**

**IT'S A GIRL! **

**Baby names anyone?! **

**Review Please(: **


	7. Denial

Poor PEETA.

*Tear.

**This first part may be a large part in the naming of their, BABY GIRL! Eeeep. IF YOU GUESS THE NAME, YOU GET A SHOUTOUT! HOW 'BOUT THAT! Maybe. **

**Whoa, my caps lock went all Cray Cray. **

Katniss was far from stable when her Dad died. Despite the unwavering determination, Katniss withheld, even at 12 years old it clearly was there. My eyes were open to every thing that girl did. How everyday she would look into her desk sneakily to see if her supplies were still safe. How she hung her jacket on the hooks in the far back of the cabinet. The way she plopped down in her seat with her head held low.

Lurching in the shadows, you would have found me watching. Nothing else, but taking mental notes of _the_ Katniss Everdeen. Hoping that to see her from so many different angles, it would feed my want to be her friend. To see her smile. To hear her laugh. To get her out of the rain.

I often saw her smile with her sister. She was four years younger, attending first grade. Once a week, on Tuesdays, the younger kids would get to come out for second recess with the older. Prim would chase the butterflies with Katniss following behind. When Tuesday passed, Katniss would return to her usual corner on the lawn, no matter the weather.

The breaking point was her back against the chain-link fence on the coldest day of spring, with the rain pouring from the heavens in buckets. I stood with my friends, Jason and Blake, under the big willow tree, sheltered from the rain, completely dry. Her backside soaked from sitting there. No girl should ever feel depressed to the extent of not caring about her health.

From that day forward, my mission was to become a shelter for her.

Not only from the rain.

However, the main problem was, I had never spoken a word to her since… ever.

My father picked me up from school that day, and I filled him in on the situation. I told of the fact that her father had died. How her cheekbones became prominent. He nodded throughout, not speaking a word, afraid that if he interrupted I would not be able to figure it myself. Like always, his presence was enough to calm me down.

With intuitiveness, I went home and through the filled cupboards, I found big, green apples. Perfect size for her small hands and ever growing hunger.

I never saw her eat at school.

My dad later that night took me to the store. He said, "She obviously wants to be in charge, let her be…Under the shade of an umbrella." We walked in through the doors, and he kissed my hair, too distracted to realize how embarrassed I am.

April showers, May flowers. The rain wouldcome tomorrow, and wouldfor the next couple of weeks. I lay in the bedroom I shared with Rye. My bed was under the window, the glass thin, strengthening the ability to pinpoint every droplet of water. I could not sleep that night with the distractions; too nervous and anxious for the day.

I stood under the shade of the tree at recess again, with the umbrella and the apple. Before, I chewed on my cheek so hard that I could easily taste the metallic in my mouth.

_Just Do It, _I repeat. Walking up, I get within an arms reach with the wet girl. "Hello," I repeat what I rehearsed; "Im Peeta Mellark. Everyone sees you in the rain. I brought you this." I pulled the umbrella out from under my jacket. "Here." She still had not looked at me, but I knew her ears functioned.

"I can handle the rain. It's just water." She grumbled then curled her legs up closer to her chest and ignored me. She looks so confused by this that her gray eyes start to convulse, moving back and forth in the open. Maybe she is hungry.

"Well than what about this?" I say with a smile, while motioning the apple in front of her eyes. She hardly takes the scowl off her face when she unwinds and pulls her arm out. Her palm faces up and I notice the scars up and down her wrist, each one parallel with the next. I didn't get it, how would you be cut with such organization?

Now, I have the apple for her and the only thought I could process was; _Success._

The unmistakable feeling of the departed apple in my hands and the realization it is off in the field somewhere, was alarming.

"Go away." She demands, and looks away passed the chain link fence. I took the time to observe how long her hair has grown since that day in Kindergarten, when they pulled the hair from her face in her dual braids. _I bet her voice sounds even better now compared to then, if it is possible. _

"I can't."

I have always been good with rejection from the Katniss Everdeen.

Everyday after, I would sit in the rain under the shade of the umbrella, completely silent. The umbrella was easily big enough to fit us both, but she would be reluctant every time and sit in her usual corner. It rained constantly that spring. Everyday, we would sit there, and I would give her one apple each day. Occurred were no polite thank-you's from the starving girl. I actually on no account saw here eat one of the apples. Her stubbornness was so keen back then also. We would go back to class, she would be soaked, and I would dry.

I never understood why she could not accept my help.

About a week and a half later, I found myself once again sitting in the rain, under the umbrella. The only change was the little girl sitting next to me, under the umbrella. She sat with me in silence once again, but instead, she ate the apple completely, core and all. It was significantly colder that day; most of my peers begged to stay inside in the school. Katniss only had her flimsy leather jacket that had no fleece to keep her warm. She shook with the cold air, despite the rain. I peeled my jacket off and placed it over her shoulders. She shrugged it off, and spoke. "Why are you helping me?"

I had thought of a million and one ways to explain how I felt for her. The way she did not take complements lead me to the conclusion to recite a general explanation, "It is the right thing to do."

The next week was continuation of silence. Although she didn't come within 3 inches to any part of my 12 year old body, she sat under the shelter everyday with me. With her, life is like, guess and check, in math. You try something. If it works, try again. Each day, I would scoot a tiny bit closer, until the end of the week on Friday. That day, she sat there with a somber expression, darkening her features. After weighing out the pros and cons, I timidly asked, "You okay?"

"Mhmm." Her mind was thinking to something else, by the way she stared in the distance.

That is all she said. I took my jacket off once again, and sat it on my lap in pile. Five minutes easily passed when, finally, she took my jacket and wrapped it over her lap, where her bare legs laid. Her vulnerability became evident more so than ever before. She thought that I would excuse the water running from her eyes as rain, which happened to be evident tears. Doing the right thing, I wrapped my arm behind her neck and pulled her into my pre-puberty chest. The water from inside, poured out into a big puddle on my shirt. She cried and cried until the bell signaled the ending of recess. We sat there, ignoring the bell. I stroked her long brown hair for the first time, not realizing that I would find myself in this similar situation, years later.

We had grown, together and differently, since then.

She still does not like public affection. She is still vulnerable, but not so obviously. Her hair is still soft as ever, and she does often need a shoulder to cry on.

Flashing to present day, Katniss climbs down the tree and looks at me one last time. Her gray eyes bland. The only other time I have seen that sends me back to the day in the rain while she cried in my arms.

However, I am not the right person for that.

Now, walking through the town, my head hangs low to hide my mixed emotions. I am no longer with Katniss, which is no doubt horrible. On the good side, knowing that I will have a daughter is great news.

There will be no confrontation between her and me for a couple days. If I had to get my memory erased of Katniss, and could only choose one quality to remember of her, it would definitely be an easy decision. You leave her alone when she is upset. You leave her alone when she is angry. Messing with her in this state would get an arrow through my heart, gutted and fed to an animal in 24 hours, tops.

The tears are uninvited in the warm air. The sweat dripping from my brow mixes with my tears, making me a hot mess. People are shuffling to complete their daily errands, hardly noticing a senior boy crying while walking down Main Street. Even if someone did come to me, No one could console me. Bristel came in with her guilty lips and took a machine gun to my future.

I trudge into the bakery during the heat of the day. The first thing I do is stand on my tiptoes and remove the jingle bells from the top. Bristel is the only thing I can put together with those bells. An unnatural wave of hatred runs through me from toes radiating to my heart.

Dad sees me and knows exactly what happened. He stands motionless, just looking through the backside of head, through my soaked hair, into my glossy eyes. I can feel it. His footsteps as loud as me make there way over. He kisses my head as he does when I am distressed, he did it during my first dilemma with Katniss all those years ago. I swivels me on my heels and embraces me in a fatherly hug. I don't resist the rising tears in me, and cry and cry and cry. All water supplies from inside me diminish. We stand in front of the bakery entrance. The weight of his arms around my shoulder removed when he flips the sign on the door to 'closed'.

"She can't leave me."

Again, he stays silent, bringing up an idea. I lift my head up and look to him, "You always know the right thing to not say."

He smiles, "I love you Peeta. You are so strong, even when you feel you aren't."

Dad always wanted a girl, he admitted that. He settled with us boys, not that he was complaining. Prim would come over when Katniss was sick, and he taught her various activities in the bakery. They would bake cookies, frost cakes, explain how the yeast made the bread rise.

My mom had me with the sole reason for me to be a girl. I knew it. She never treated me the same as my brothers. I was her last hope, but I fell through with my Y chromosome.

"Dad."

"You are getting what you have always wanted." I sniffle the mucus building through my humid throat.

"Which is?"

"She told me."

"What?" By the way he squints his eyes and scrunches his nose, he most be picturing the worst.

"Nothing bad happened." I breathe in, trying to find the oomph to smile. "It's a girl."

His smile is unexplainable. It runs from his lips to his eyes all the way to his body language. He grabs onto me tighter, and I feel like im suffocating. "That is great! Have you and Kat-" He pauses.

"No we haven't picked out a name. She broke up with me, if you couldn't tell. But we are getting back together." I say with unquestionable confidence. "She needs time."

"Think positive. You mother always wanted a girl, she might be slightly amused it is a girl. She can buy it everything. I am going to sound like Prim if I keep rambling." All I do is laugh throughout, he is happy like nothing else.

"Let's clean up and then head on home." We spend the next hour counting the money and cleaning everything with disinfectants. Our Friday-Family-Clean-Up is down to two of us. I scrub the counter where Bristel attacked very thoroughly; no germs are living there now.

My mood is exceptionally better.

I drive my truck home with music playing in the background. Something about being heartbroken sings, morphing me back to the realization of our tense relationship. When I pull into the drive, I pull out my phone that is still on high volume. Just as expected, she didn't text me back. Prim will get back to me, so I tap quickly, **How is she? Please be on my side on this one, I have an explanation.**

I shove it back, hoping for a quick response.

20 seconds later, I ram my head into the ceiling of my truck with the high-pitched bells of my ringtone. **You better. **

I send back, **Can I call you later? Don't let Katniss know. Go in your backyard, or something. Love you Prim. **

**Sure. Better be a good reason. **

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

After 20 minutes, I conclude this is the happiest I have ever seen my mother. She isn't smiling, but she sure as hell isn't frowning. She continues about how this is going to be a great popularity factor amongst friends. Of the town people, she feels the strongest about 'making your mark' or 'being better than everyone else', than anyone. It is a popularity contest.

Does she not realize this person will be her granddaughter? A living human being? Half Peeta and half Katniss?

She is not going to be just the newest Prada purse or high heels.

Materialism is not lacking in my mother's moral character.

She.

My baby is a She. Her baby. I feel like an emotional hormonal girl, because I excuse myself to my room. I borrow all the water from the oceans, and expose them from my eyes. _Katniss is not here. _It is about seven, and all I want to do is sleep. Prim is probably sitting outside of Katniss' locked door, waiting for my call. I dial the numbers and wait for the dial tone.

"Give me a second." She spits. The footsteps down the hall are obvious. She is running. I wonder if it's from someone. The screen door opens and closes through the speaker, and she sits down, I know. She lets out an oomph sound every time. "Okay. What do you want Peeta?"

"Hi Prim, do you hate me?" I question.

"Let me think about that one."

"What did Katniss say to you? I'll explain it." Katniss loves to exaggerate.

"She said that she was so excited to tell you the news, and then you were all over Bristel Slate. That was when she started to cry. Really, Cry. It was horrible. She says that you cheated on her because of the baby."

"Okay. I was not all over Bristel Slate. God, I wanted to smash her face in. Head butt her, I don't know. She just stormed into the bakery and came at me. Hopefully Katniss can understand that." I plead.

"That is how I tried to explain it to her. She said that 'your eyes said it all.' What is that supposed to mean?"

I think of my response. "My eyes probably saw her." I pause. "And got excited for the news. That was when I came close to murdering Bristel and ran after Katniss to explain."

"It's hard to explain to her. I get it. Ohh and Peeta?"

"Yeah?"

"I believe _you, _and I am on _your_ side. Don't worry. Everything will be all right. Have you been crying?"

"Thank you Prim, and yes. How could I not be?"

"Teenagers are complicated." She mumbles under her breath. "Hopefully the weekend will help her calm down." She picks herself up again and she makes the oomph sound. The screen door slides through the track, and all I hear is a crashing noise.

"What was that?" I exclaim.

"Katniss. Sorry, should have warned you."

"Okay. See you Monday. I am giving you both a ride to school. Tell her that."

"I wouldn't for a million, not now. I will in a little. Bye. Goodnight, damsel in distress."

"Pssh. Goodnight. Thanks a bunch"

"I will be receiving a lot more than a bunch."

"Goodnight," I push. The phone clicks and I push my face farther into my pillow, Imagining Katniss laying there with me, imagining her arms around my torso, her lips on mine, not my pillow.

This is going to be a long weekend.

The average human brain weighs three pounds. The human specie use 0.1% of their brain. The brain is one of the most intricate organs of the human body. Who we are as a person is in this thing protected by our skull. This is the reason brain transplants can't be performed.

It's made up of 100 billion neurons. It has 111,000 miles of myelinated nerve fibers, enough to get you halfway to the moon.

For some reason in my dull brain, the thought that it would be good to bake something at the bakery came.

Katniss POV

I stomp all the way home, trying hard to keep the tears from falling. The tears crash from my eyes while I try to hate the girl in womb inside. He knows the news. He knows that this child is his. Where would we be if this weren't his? What if I was with Gale? I rub my belly to prove my point.

Prim comes to console me in my bedroom, but I shove her off. I don't want to think of anything beside Peeta on Bristel. That is how I explained it Prim, Peeta and her were equally at it. She didn't believe that for a second.

Her back is leaned up against my door. She thinks I am going to do something stupid. I haven't cut since I met Peeta, but now that that isn't happening, she thinks I will. Crazy girl, she loves me too much.

I hear the faint vibrating sound, and Prim get up and answer her phone. She walks down the hall and goes the backyard. Since the house is a one-story, I turn the lights off and open the blinds before cracking out the window.

I hear bits and pieces of the conversation, but how she is soothing through her voice it is definitely someone distressed. "Ohh and Peeta!" I hear, answering my suspicion. "I believe you; I am on your side. Everything will be all right. Have you been crying?" Is he so dim-witted that he can't even come to me? I grab the picture off my night table and throw it against the wall. I am destructive. I am a savage. I am not afraid. I am fearless.

I go to bed early with a smile on my face.

The weekend goes on easier than expected, and I feel the best I have for months. Maybe the baby is happy he is gone, for now.

Prim informs on Sunday night that Peeta is still taking us to school. I argue that I have my own way to school and realize that I don't. That night, I sleep horribly, knowing that I have school, with other people, with Peeta, driving me there. The fact of being social is horrible.

I hate school because you have to do work, be around people and wear pants. I wish homeschooling were an option. But I have it better in school for some. Peeta and I are… were, going to talk to the principal about the situation. However, Prim, mom, and I will do. For now.

Peeta waits in his truck, but instead sits in the driver's seat hitting his head against the steering wheel. He bumps the horn and almost hurts himself. I laugh at his injury.

Mission today: Piss him off.

First, I plaster the largest grin on my face and skip, no run, to the truck. I sit next to him in the car and Prim slides to the side. I lean into Peeta and ask him a million questions about his weekend. How he slept, the bakery breads, his parents, absolutely anything that makes him happy.

Even though I know, he is dying inside. The bags under his eyes signal his extreme lack of sleep. I can tell he has been crying because his face is still red and puffy. His voice is raspy when he answers and he coughs repeatedly.

I ask more questions, anything and everything except about the baby. That is what ruined us, but I won't let that show.

He is confused, speechless mostly, and I soak it in. I love this power, how he is still so desperately in love with me, and I am so very not.

I think.

When we pull up, I walk Prim to her school, with linked arms. I want to skip or shake my butt or blow him an air kiss, but he might catch on to what I am doing. I wave Prim off as she walks to Rory. Rory had better be good to her.

Math is completely out of ordinary, Mr. Potter is out of jokes and we learn about cosines and tangents. I sit closer than usual to Peeta. He is so out of his element, it is almost comical. Glimmer, this extremely annoying girl, sits next to Peeta. She talks to him about everything, Peeta responds nonchalantly. He is pathetic.

Second hour comes, and Johanna hardly speaks. I am so hyperactive I feel I could just bounce off a wall while landing a double back flip.

Im pregnant, so that defies some law of nature.

The teacher explains different literature we are supposed to read. Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, Scott Fitzgerald. It is counteractive, and I calm down slowly.

"Okay brainless, did you guys have sex right before class, because you seem abnormally jittery." Johanna asks beside me.

"Jo! Shh. Peeta and I broke up. I am trying to piss him off." Her face scrunches.

"Katniss!" She quietly scolds. "That will get you nowhere."

Third hour is science, and I feel so alone now. The energy wears off like an energy drink. I definitely am feeling the 2 O'clock feeling at 10 in the morning. My lab partner is Bristel. She is one of Peeta's ex-ex-ex-ex-ex girlfriends. They had a 'thing', whatever than means. She never took a liking to me. She is like everyone else.

But she definitely took a liking to Peeta's lips on Friday, no doubt about that.

Her and her fancy clothes scream town material. Town and seam is like oil and vinegar, not mixing.

"So I heard that you and Peeta broke up. Poor baby." She taps my leg as if I am so infested rat. She blows her breath into my face, smelling of mint and slut.

"We are just taking a break." Is that what im calling it?

"That's not what Peeta said." I must raise my eyebrows questionably. She continues, "Something about how he hates that he got you knocked up, and he wishes you weren't so fat and moody from being pregnant." She shakes her head like she is the CEO of Apple. I don't get it.

"No he didn't." I protect. Clove, this girl who scares half my graduating class, defends Bristel's side.

"I heard it too. I mean, I would feel the same way. Cato would kill me if I got pregnant." Cato would kill her if she stepped out of line at all. Cato and Clove is the most nauseating couple at this school. Scratch that, they follow closely behind Gale and Delly.

"-!" Nothing comes out. All the possible things I could say about how she is the most selfish person I know. How she is heartless. How no one will love her. How I am being such a jerk thinking these things.

I have never been at a loss of words. Instead, I try to listen to the teacher. He insists we call him by his first name, Beetee. He demonstrates at the front the difference between chemical and physical reactions. He stands over his deep sink and breaks a plate inside.

"Physical!" That class answers in unison.

"Good." He shuffles to the hot plate, where an egg had been cooking. He tilts the pan and waits for the response.

"Chemical!" The class again answers in unison.

"Perfect! Does anyone in the class have an example?" Bristel raises her hand. She smirks and speaks:

"So Katniss got knocked up by Peeta. Is her state of pregnancy a physical or chemical reaction?"

**Okay, she doesn't have third hour with Madge. I changed that. Sorry. What will her reaction be to Bristel? &thank you everyone for the list of baby names! Very helpful. I am at a loss for what to name the girl. HELP? SOS? Yeah. And the thing at the top, I have an _idea_of what the name will be. This is the longest chapter. Yippee! **

**Okay bye, ^^this is getting too long. **

**Review! They are fuel to my fire! **


	8. Recovery

Chapter 8- Baby on Fire

I hear white noise from Beetee answering her question. All the classmates listen to the chuckle in his voice. "Well the physical changes happen in the womb when the…"

My arm extends faster than ever before, palm contacting the cheek of Bristel Slate: #1 on my hate list. She kisses Peeta, sabotages my life with one body part, and fully enjoys it?

Sick.

Out of normal character, I run out of the room howling with dammed tears. I hate her. I hate crying. I hate everything. Why did I let myself hit the girl? She damn well deserved it, but why me? I question while running down the vacated halls.

Before I have a chance to notice, I pull out my phone and text Peeta: **third hour. Help. **

The lockers organize in three sided cubicles lined up with four in a row. Leaning against the stacked cubicles, I wrestle my legs against my protruding stomach and wait.

And, wait.

"What are you doing here?" A deep voice asks. Coming from around the corner, the bronze haired Fish God materializes. Finnick and I had been close since the beginning of middle school. Before he knew Annie, he was the biggest flirt to girls. Once he met her, he stopped his hardcore flirting. They are going to get married; he just has not popped the question.

I sniffle in response and pull my legs closer.

"Okay," He states while sitting down next me. "Is it about your sister?" I shake my head. "The baby?" I shake my head. "Me?" I squint my eyes with distaste and he dryly laughs. "Okay maybe jokes aren't the best right now. It's Peeta?"

I do not know what it is. It _is _about the baby. It _is _about Peeta. So instead, I explain the reason that I am crying; because of Bristel. Then the word vomit hits, and everything I do not understand in life comes out.

"Finnick, I'm scared." I say after I finish.

He hugs me when I am done and looks me in the eyes. "Katniss, you are one of the strongest people I know. Think about all the sluts here. They make fun of the girls that get pregnant, when really they are murdering children with multiple abortions. They would have had kids their freshman year." He pauses and looks around the corner, "Peeta is really torn up about the break-up. He told me he didn't sleep at all this weekend."

"I could tell when he picked me up this morning. I was a big jerk to him."

"I know. Well here is your chance to apologize." He gets up grabs the bathrooms pass, "Funny, I don't have to pee anymore." He disappears down the hall as someone new comes in view.

"Hey," I hear. Someone that desperately is trying to get me back; I need to apologize. But I am too stubborn for that. Peeta emerges from the next locker stall. I pat the ground next to me, and he obliges. Without making eye contact, he states plainly, "What happened." In his voice, there is no emotion. He doesn't know what to feel for the girl that tore his heart out. The tears piddle out of my eyes slowly. He doesn't want to show that he is completely broken. He doesn't want to give up this easily.

And I know it.

"Look I know I have been a jerk." The word spill out of my mouth.

"Yep." He agrees. His shoes must have become the new thing because they are the only thing he looks at.

"Can you please look at me?" His eyes meet with mine, the bags under so dark. "Why wou-" He cuts me off.

"You know that I would never kiss Bristel, right?" This takes me by surprise. I do know that. Why didn't I think of that before?

"Yeah. I was so surprised when I walked in to the bakery. It was as if all common sense was gone. I know you wouldn't do that. It just became hard to believe."

He scoots closer and grabs my hands. "Katniss, I am so sorry that happened. I swear that every part of my heart belongs to you. Okay, and to our baby girl, I have to save some for her." His eyes linger to my lips that extend in a smile.

"You are so hard to hate." I scoot closer to him and he takes a deep breath. "What's wrong with you?"

"What are we? Are you my girlfriend now?" Foolish words would spill out of my mouth. Instead, I spill my heart into a deep kiss. "Im-taking-that-as-a-yes." He gets each word out separately.

"Ehh-hum!" Mr. Heavensbee, the principal clears his throat. "I got a report that you hit a girl in class."

"I didn't hit anyone sir," Peeta informs.

"I know that. Lovely Katniss Everdeen, Can you come with me please?" Peeta's eyes go wide with the new information that I hit someone in class. I nod and get up.

"See you after class Katniss. We can do Chinese?" I smile even bigger and follow the principal to his office.

Plutarch and I have always had this connection. He understands me, I understand him. Walking through the secretary's office, I wave at her. "Good morning," I state and she smiles.

This is not the first time I have been in his yellow-walled office. Freshman year brought many trials and tribulations. Gale did not comprehend the fact that we were done with our relationship.

A week after the party at Finnick's house, I got an anonymous text saying to meet them behind the school. I was so ignorant and naive. It should have come to no surprise that Gale would pounce on me from behind the school. I kicked him in the testicles so hard that he kneeled over in pain and fell flat on his face in the grass. He broke his nose.

When the school board was notified of the incident, Mr. Heavensbee defended me one hundred percent. My deep-set hatred for Clove also occurred. She protected Gale's side of the story, all a lie, and later threatened me to stay off Gale. Defensive and jealous. Hmm. I wonder if Cato knows of this.

Clocks have obsessed him since the first time I met him. Analog, digital, and handmade clocks fill the room I sit in. He is peculiar to such a degree, I feel at ease.

"I got a call from Mr. Wright explaining that you physically assaulted Bristel Slate. I may be a principal, but rumors go around fast. Is this because of what happened at the bakery? Is this revenge on the girl?" He sounds as though he is defending her!

"Yes." I reply timidly.

"Perfect. I knew you wouldn't just hit her for any reason. So she is basically a back-stabbing tramp," I wince at his words. "And you are completely forgiven. Beside you will need to serve one detention with me, after school today or tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." He replaces the batteries in the one of the clocks across the room. I watch him carefully, watching and waiting for the catch in his breath signally speech.

"Great. So I hear Peeta Mellark got you knocked up?" he laughs lightly as the old Plutarch emerges.

"You don't only hear it. Look at this." I point to my belly and laugh lightly.

"Great! This could be a great publicity stunt to show that our school outshined all others in the area, because our students show more perseverance than others do. In addition, we can show the younger students that success can be reached even through hardship." I don't understand what he is saying. I lean back in the chair and consider what he said.

"What do you mean a publicity stunt? You know I hate the spotlight."

"We can take a video of your progress through the weeks and sit down with your teachers. It can be collateral for your punishment for beating up Bristel."

"Let's get this clear, I did not beat her up, I slapped her. That is all." I demand. A rumor from a principal is worse than any student's.

"You are excused." He motions for me to sign a consent form, stating that I understand my punishment and everything explained in the office will be fulfilled.

Peeta stands by the exterior doors of the office. "What happened this time? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Calm down bread boy." I exclaim and grab his hand. "What about I explain at lunch?" He swings our intertwined hands and nods.

5 minutes later, the truck swerves an opposing right turn away from the Chinese restaurant. The pavement turns to trees as we travel farther.

"Don't worry Kat, I'm not kidnapping you." He rubs my inner thigh and a shiver runs up my spine. I nuzzle myself closer to him and continue our journey.

"We are going to be late to class." I state. I don't want to start my senior year with an unexcused absence _and_ a detention.

"Let's say I explained to the secretary that you are suffering some kind of stress disorder and she gave us the day off."

"Are you serious Peeta?" He is great with his words, but not that good.

"Old ladies are complete pushovers for pregnant girls." He smirks and I unwind myself to kiss his cheek.

"I will never deserve you." I gush.

"Touché." I fiddle with the radio until something slightly familiar comes on. Peeta sings the words, his chest vibrating with each note. "You should sing."

"Pssh, no." I explain while turning the volume down a smidge. "Where are we going?"

"We will be there in a minute, tops." I sit up and adjust my seatbelt, getting a better view of the surroundings. Trees. Nothing but the forest. He transitions to park and tells me to wait inside, and close my eyes. I obey, and then he carries me out to a blanket surrounded with wildflowers. The sun is at high noon, shining brightly over top. Laid out is a red plaid blanket with a picnic basket. I don't have words for the scene. I love it so much.

"Peeta, it is perfect. I-I-don't have words for this." Instead, he kisses me and opens the basket. "Cheese buns? Almost my favorite buns." I say devilishly as I take a bite into the still warm decadence.

"When I am depressed, I bake." He explains sheepishly.

"You bake in whatever mood you are in."

"This is true." After a few moments of silence, he continues what he was saying. "I called your mom and explained that you would be home late. If that is okay with you."

What does he want from this? Why am I going to home _late? _This seems to be getting awkward. That means that Prim isn't going to have a ride home. "What about-"

"Prim is getting picked up by my dad." He butts in. "They are doing something at the bakery, he said he needed a young girls help."

"Cookies." We answer in unison and laugh. I curl my legs under me and unbraid my hair. He looks from me then to the sun. "It's weird how you can look at the sun and be blinded if you look too long. I think that I might go blind if I keep being with you. You are something inside me that never stops burning. You are perfect, just the way you are."

"Stop with the Bruno Mars, and the romance novels, those are for girls." I chuckle and he sits with a questioning look filling his features. "I'm just joshing you. The Peeta Mellark could be quotable sometime soon."

"Very funny."

We talk of frivolous things for a while when I feel a foreign fluttering in my abdomen. "Oh my God Peeta!" I exclaim.

"What!"

"The baby! She's moving, put your hand here." I pull my shirt up and push his hand against my stomach.

An obvious sigh of contentment leaves his mouth as he rubs my stomach, he knows I like that. The flurries of feelings come every so often, but it stops. "Wake her up!" Peeta demands.

I laugh at his childish demand, and he slowly stops rubbing my stomach. "If it happens again, I will let you know. Promise."

By late afternoon, all I can think about is how real this is becoming. There _is _a human growing inside of me. This living being _is _a girl. My life _will _change because of her. I find myself lying with my head on Peeta's lap, making a crown of flowers while he fiddles with my hair, claiming he is practicing knots. After a while, his hands go still.

"What?" I ask.

"I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever." He says.

I feel so warm and relaxed and beyond worrying about the future with my baby, I just let the word slip out, "Okay."

"Then you'll allow it?"

"I'll allow it." I say. He continues with my hair, and we wait for the day to pass. It is the most beautiful place I have ever seen. I am with the one I love, the baby, and with the boy, I love. Everything is perfect. I close my eyes for a second and wake up with the sun slowly making it's descent past the horizon.

The rumbling from under scares me until I realize its Peeta's snores. I turn over and kiss him awake, only because I am the biggest romantic and I really have to pee. Ha. This little thing has found a great hiding spot right on my bladder. With the amount of water I flushed down with my cheese buns, it is bound to come out real soon.

He wakes up completely and deepens the kiss. I arch my back to reach his chin and nip at it for a while. This drives him crazy. He kisses every inch of my neck, moving to reach the other side. I knock over the picnic basket and ignore it. He continues his current work of sucking my neck all the way up to my chin before taking to my lips.

I feel this fire, unlike anything I have ever felt before. Not even in the forest all those months ago. It is different. This is who I love, whom I will share parenthood with. I will spend the rest of my life in some kind of arrangement with this boy. This man.

Power. The main feeling is power. I slither my arms down his arms and under his shirt. I curl his hardly noticeable chest hair, and he works down my neck simultaneously.

When he reaches the bit of skin before the neckline of my shirt stops him, I nibble at his ear.

We moan together.

The girl separating us makes am obvious appearance. I need to pee now. Now. "Peeta."

He must think I am saying his name in passion, when really it is only a plea. "Katniss." He opens his eyes, the blue contrasting the deep crimson blush ruminates his cheeks.

"No. I need to pee."

"Fine. One more minute." I don't respond as he continues down my neck.

"Peeta! I am going to get a hickey. Stop. Remember what my mom said about the last time?" She almost killed me. Prim innocently asked what was on my neck a couple of weeks ago, at the dinner table, making confrontation inevitable.

"Fine," Peeta pouts.

"I really need to pee. I feel like I will explode. Hurry." He crumples the blanket in his hands and shoves all our food in the basket. He picks me up with the basket held in-between his teeth and drapes the blanket around me.

"Hey!" I shriek.

"I couldn't stand the thought of you doing the potty dance." He smirks, and the memories flood in.

"Says the boy who wasn't fully potty-trained until he was 4. Your parents were scared to send you to Kindergarten. So don't try the whole potty dance thing with me."

"Sorry mom." He says while sliding me into the cab.

"Drive!" I command, he has never accelerated this fast.

"Trickle. Trickle. Trickle." I punch him on the boney part of his shoulder, and he winces. "Drip. Drip."

"Fine. This is your truck. If you want urine everywhere, okay. That can happen."

I feel the inertia that comes with his speed increasing.

My eyes scan the surrounding for anything that could be viewed as a possible toilet. Anything. When we drive up toward the shack in the brush, I grab some paper towels from the glove box and my phone. I sprint faster than before, leaving Peeta alone to walk around.

The shack is absolutely nothing but a pit toilet, the stench disgusting. The screws that swivel the door are completely rusted.

I take care of my business, and push the door open with the little muscle mass I have.

I hardly catch the sight of a loaded 16-wheeler colliding with Peeta's truck.

CLIFFHANGER.

ReViEwS are LOVED!

Thanks, and hate me.

By the way, I figured out the middle name, a lovely reviewer gave me the idea. *COUGH* *COUGH* Chel Duffield

If your curious, its in the reviews. (:


	9. Operation

**(Listen to Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift while reading this. It really sets the tone) **

"Peeta!" My legs break out into a desperate sprint in my attempt to locate him. His truck intertwines with the grill of the semi, mangled and tangled across the road after hit at 60 mph. The line of traffic is increasing, impatient people flashing their hazard lights and likely calling 911. The truck that caused the crash looks completely intact, only the cab dented and scratched.

"Hey!" Instinctively, my legs extend forward, following the voice, without noticing a twisted piece of metal in the grass somehow recognizable as the ford symbol from the front of Peeta's truck. My nose breaks my fall as I splat face down on the ground. Blood makes a steady trail under my nose.

The baby!

Rushing my hands to my abdomen, "Everything will be okay baby girl. Daddy is fine." I whisper to the unresponsive baby, half convincing myself as the metallic taste of blood streams through my parted lips. I look down once again, where light reflects off the tinted glass of a beer bottle. The stinging occurs as I dig the pieces of glass out of cheeks. I lift myself up as I notice the driver climbing out of his semi and stumbling over to me. The man has shaggy blond hair and an unshaven face. His voice is scruffy, steps uneven: under the influence of alcohol.

"How many people were in the vehicle?" He slurs.

"Two."

"Thank God... He yours?"

"I hope." Carefully, I follow the direction of the man's finger.

People are slowly climbing out of their cars, trying to figure out what happened. I run faster than any pregnant girl should run. Frantically, I look for the blonde hair and the gray shirt that he was wearing before. It is not dark yet, but the sun is making its descent, I am loosing daylight.

"Peeta!" I scream desperately. "Where are you?" The sagebrush rises 2 feet on the shoulders of the highway, easily concealing where a man could be. Alive or Dead.

Then I see him. The crash must have thrown him down a-ways. Shirt ripped, face reddened. Weak and vulnerable rests his right cheek on the ground, motionless. A small pool of blood seeps through the dirt, making my bloody nose look like a paper cut.

Kneeling next to his crumpled form, I run my fingers through his matted blond curls, flashing back to times he was so alive. Thinking of my father, I start to sing. It is so abnormal that I surprise myself by not stopping. The old lullaby my dad used to lull me to sleep flows from my mouth easily like the tears out of my eyes.

"_Deep in the meadow _

_Under the willow_

_A bed of grass_

_A soft green pillow_

_Lay down your head_

_And close your sleepy eyes"_

I trail off, finding that I cannot continue. Peeta _is _dead. I cannot face the fact that when the sun rises, his eyes will not again open. His blue eyes won't shine, his lips won't smile, his arms won't protect.

Instead, I lean down to kiss his neck, something we were just doing, a two-way action that cannot happen anymore. His skin is still warm under my lips, moist from my fallen tears, and pulsating slightly.

There is a heartbeat.

I wipe the blood continuously, making a reappearance on my dirtied hands to my pants. Holding his face in my hands, I gently place three fingers on his neck, as we learned in health class together.

"Peeta," I whimper. "Please be okay. I'm so sorry." Hiccupping each word, trying to avoid the lump in my throat.

"Sing. Finish it." He moans through gritted teeth. He moves his head so he can look at me in the eyes.

"I can't. I was singing your death song."

"Then I will die to hear it." He smiles weakly before widening his starkly pale blue eyes most likely in pain.

"What hurts?"

"Katniss how is the baby?" There he goes again, not caring about himself.

"Where are _you_ hurt?" I ask again, and he looks to his left leg. Under his cargo shorts, it is obvious this is where the blood came from. Right above his kneecap up to his thigh is completely red and torn up. It's repulsive, but he can't see that from me. Not now. "The paramedics will be here soon." He nods with closed eyes and repositions himself carefully.

"I love you Katniss Everdeen." His voice is pitiful from the pain and the only thing I feel is closure. If I were to die with Peeta right now, I would be all right. His slow tears under closed eyelids wet his own face and I wipe them with me hand. His chin covered with stubble, feels rough as I rub my fingers down the surface.

"I love you more than anything." The tears make my words silent, but Peeta reads my mind. He hears through the blaring sirens, and the blowing horns, the only thing he wants to hear.

"_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_Here is the place that I love you"_

For a moment, I sit there, watching my tears drip down on his face. I press my lips against his for the last time, and wait for the end. Wait for someone to carry this man, this broken boy away.

The red and blue sirens sound in the background and I sigh in relief.

"Im not leaving yet."

The paramedics come with their supplies. They will want me to clear out. So they can collect Peeta for treatment. I stay instead. Nothing will move me away from him. The men take him off in the ambulance with my fingers intertwined with his tightly. Anything we face, we do together.

The ride to the hospital is too long, with the excessive beeping of the heart rate monitor, signaling how dull of a heartbeat there is. Peeta sinks in and out of consciousness.

We crash through the doors as doctors in sterile white, masked and gloved, already prepped to interfere, go into action. He lays on a silver table, tubes and wires springing out of him every which way, and for a moment I forget that we aren't at the crash scene anymore, where the old drunk sprawled out unconscious from the alcohol. I see the doctors as one more threat, one more vehicle engineered to kill us. Petrified, I lunge for them, but I'm caught and thrust into another room, and a glass door seals between us. I pound on the glass, screaming my head off. Everyone ignores me except for the male nurse who I push away in his attempts to calm me.

I slump down on the floor, my face against the glass staring as the doctors' work feverishly on Peeta, their brows creased in frustration. I see the IV flow pumping through the tubes, watch a wall of dials and lights to me, only that whatever they are saying, if for the good.

I startle when I catch sight of someone staring a few inches away. The tangled brown hair, the blood covered face, the hollow gray eyes, Rabid. Feral. Mad. No wonder the nurse is so skittish.

"It's just a broken leg. He will be in and out of cast very quickly." He placates. _In and out. In and out. In and out_. I breathe, quickly out of breath.

"Why are _you_ a nurse?" I blurt out without realizing how rude what I just said was.

He smirks knowingly and it's soothing. The gold trim on his nursing outfit compliments his dark chocolate skin, the stereotypical nurse attire thrown out the window. It brings me back to thought of my own mother. Does she know anything about the crash? What about Prim? Were they notified? _The doctors most likely informed them._ Just as I feel that I can be calm, a doctor still clothed in operation attire rushes in with fervor. "We are transferring the boy via helicopter. Tell the passenger." The nurse looks to me with empathy and I know the feeling that I get from this; genuine kindness just because of the situation. The poor pregnant girl whose boyfriend is dying, or dead, they don't really care. They just want to seem kind, and calming.

Instead of going into the hushed sympathies, he states something I can do now. "If you run, you can catch up to them. Two floors up. Better hurry." He pats my leg in understanding, and I lift up myself from the floor and run through the sterilized hallways. I skip the elevator and run the service stairs to the roof. '_Unauthorized Access' _my butt_. _Humid evening air hits all exposed skin, the sky turning a murky purple. The helicopter spins its blades quickly, almost distracting me from the broken boy carried on the stretcher, covered in multiple surgical technicians and nurses attempting to keep his condition stabilized.

"Hey!" I pathetically yell over a-far. They cannot hear me, and Peeta can only sit in his dreams of unconsciousness. Suddenly I stand on the perimeter of the landing pad, getting shooed off by the staff, convincing me to move.

The vehicle lifts from the hospital roof and it disappears into nothing. Then he's gone. I droop to the cement floor as the nurse comes to my rescue. He follows me down the halls back to the room I was in before and does a quick evaluation. He tends to my nose, which is much bruised, and the multiple scrapes and bruises throughout my body, and I feel the guilt. We could have just gone somewhere else. Maybe if I was not so eager, maybe if I wouldn't have become jealous of Bristel. Maybe if I had been more patient, or quicker to forgive, we wouldn't be here. In its place, the comforts of Peeta's arms, wrapped into each other, just enjoying each other. So close to each other, not knowing where one began and the other ended. Well, actually that would have been a couple of months. I am too projected in the front to even lie on my stomach without loosing balance.

It sparks the thought: "I'm pregnant. Check the baby?" I blurt out failing my attempt of staying calm and collected.

"Oh of course!" He says, while pulling out his stethoscope. He listens to the heartbeat of the baby with closed eyes, the signal to her life. "Wow." He pauses once again, mimicking numbers in an undertone as he counts. "This is definitely an active one. This baby's on fire!" He exclaims.

On fire? Is the heartbeat too fast? Does this inactive human realize the departure of her father?

The '_in and out' breathing technique is not working. _

The nurse takes my hand and looks me in the eyes, "I have been in the same situation you have been in. He will be alright." Somehow, I struggle to believe that. "I'm Cinna."

"Katniss," I answer in weak response.

**A/N This chapter is the catalyst for the rest of the story. DO NOT WORRY, PEETA IS OKAY IN THE HEAD, he just hurts his leg. (He does not lose it either) hehe hopefully I incorporated Cinna into this all right. He is so calm and collected that he fits the ER nurse status. **

**Please review. I love them. I want 100! **


	10. Emergency

A/N OKAY. I know you are very concerned with Peeta's wellbeing, but just read this real quick. Mayday, PLEASE, if you are a reviewer, sign in! I have gotten so many great reviews from people with suggestions, but I feel the need to check with them before incorporating their ideas. Because I couldn't communicate to these readers, the multiple guest reviewers, look for your input into this chapter. It is there, you were each individually great help. (:

Big thank you's to

Captainforkz and HGfourever 

Rinarose01824 (LOL) _

The Giggling Gummy Bear

Seanigurl

Chel Duffield

& Janerey because she just helps sort out the storyline without me even asking.

They transport him to the Capitol Hospital, the best hospital in the area, which is 70 long, antagonizing miles away in the Capitol city. Cinna continued to inform me of my baby, on _his_ family life, and anything and everything that would get my mind off the condition of the father of my daughter.

He was so easy to talk to. I could let my walls down and feel comfortable freely answering his questions. The impulse to act proper over my mistaken teenage pregnancy vanished. I went into deep conversation of the fact that OUR baby was a sweet girl. We had learned of the sex not more than two days ago. He questioned me on names, and I had no idea. Cinna threw out a few ideas and I contemplated the letters arranged in each naming for my child, but distraction became a deep setback.

From what I listened to, Cinna studied at the nursing school inside the capitol, the same city Peeta's hospital was located in, and was given a temporary assignment in the local hospital here. His last day was tomorrow, and then he would return to a normal regulating shift when he returned.

Maybe Cinna could help me when I was in the Capitol for Peeta.

"You said that you were in the same situation as me, how?" Cinna grabbed my hand and squeezed it gently, just as a father would. He leaned forward and tried to push the matted clumps of hair out of my face, with no avail.

"Actually that is a long story. Cannot say I am a father, but I had my mother rushed to the hospital in a helicopter when I was 17. That's about how old you are, right?" I nod and he continues, "I was left sitting in my school clothes not knowing if my mother would be okay or not. I had no way to get to her, I had no sibling and my dad was off on a corporate trip. I waited by myself in my own self pity, because I felt the whole thing was my fault." I waited for continuation but instead his eyes became red and I calmed him. "I never cry." He chuckles and wipes his eyes weakly.

His beeper went off signaling another patient needed him. He left me to my own devices and said that a doctor would come in shortly for a more thorough evaluation. I had yet to call my mother or Prim, and the hospital phone right next to my bed looked promising. I dialed quickly, still figuring what to say.

"Hello?" Prim's sweet voice questioned, as the echo from the machine through the cord and into the corded device held next to my ear played. On the other hand, maybe it was the fact I am trembling.

"Hi Prim, Its Katniss." I choke out, "I'm at the hospital."

She responds quickly, "I thought it was weird that I was actually getting a phone call instead of a text." She paused, realizing that I said hospital. "Hospital! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Im fine. Peeta…" I trailed off, unsure of an explanation of his condition. I did not know if he just needed emergency surgery on his leg or if he on the brink of death.

"What happened? Never mind, Mom is at work so I will call Hazelle for a ride to the hospital. See you in a few Katniss. Love you." Too bad my mom did not work at the hospital; instead, she was at a doctor's office on the outskirts of town. Hospitals were not exactly her thing.

In my solitude, my mind kept me company, as an uninvited guest. Thoughts of Peeta's varied death kept repeating like the Chinese water torture, each thought a separate drop of water to my forehead.

A dark-haired girl would hug at my legs looking up with her piercing questioning blue eyes asking. Asking questions, I could not answer. Where is daddy? Why don't I know my daddy? Mommy.

A broken Peeta would lie in a hospital bed with life support detached, dying suddenly as soon as the labor pains hi

Repeated ways of Prim swallowed by death.

The most horrific torture methods performed on my father.

I wallowed in my day-mares until a confused Prim rushed in.

Settled in a dazed state throughout the conversation, I did not know what to reply to the questions she asked. Until I became so lost mentally, Prim went out and grabbed the main doctor on the floor who went in the give me a full examination.

A simple bruised nose and a few stitches in my hand where the bottle cut in deeply, and various cuts; beside that, nothing. Perfect health.

On the other hand, Peeta is without perfect health. He must have something seriously wrong with him if he had to move to that hospital. Why would they not keep him in town? Don't larger hospitals deal with high-risk patients? Why is Peeta there? He needs to be okay.

The sun had made its complete descent and it must have been past eight or nine, but I was exhausted and in pain. The baby had gotten much stronger, and her kicks started to hurt.

I asked a frumpy nurse for some pain medication. Smart woman to put me to sleep with it.

When I wake up, Cinna is holding my hand with both of his, the summer sun shining on his face. He could not be past 30; his face is wrinkle-free. His lips are moving, his eyes looking intensely toward Prim. Prim molds into my back on the hospital bed, clearly wanting to be as close as possible. Mother stiffly sits with posture; she clearly does not like the similarity of the hospital from when my father died.

_Don't worry, I feel it too_.

"Katniss, I thought I could be here in the morning for you to wake up." He pats my hand then pulls his hands away. Prim peels herself away, and looks me in the eyes with her blues and I see hope. Her half smile gives it away too.

I raise my eyebrows trying to pacify what is on her mind. "Is he alive?"

She laughs lightly and hits my arm softly, "Yeah… He's okay."

My attention transfers to Cinna because he is the nurse and he knows the truth. He shares a glance with my mother, then he begins, "Peeta is fine. There is no chance he is dying. He is out of surgery; they had to remove a 12-inch piece of shrapnel from his thigh. It went all the way to the bone." He looks to my mom again, and I still do not know why he transferred to the larger hospital. Is there a bigger problem they are not telling me?

"Why was he transferred?"

"He stated that he wanted to be a part of the bloodless program, and his parents obliged. That's why. Nothing else."

"That's it?" I ask, even though I know there is nothing else.

He dryly laughs and continues, "Yes Katniss, that's it. However, because of his request, he has to stay over there. Your Mom and I came up with an idea." He pauses, "Your family has had bad luck over the course of these two days. Her car broke down on the way to the hospital. Even though my shift at this hospital ends tomorrow, I came to the agreement with the boss here and he is letting me off this afternoon so we can head to the Capitol."

How are we affording my hospital bill of lounging in a hospital bed? How much will the repairs to our broken car be? Why is Cinna taking in so much consideration to help my family?

"How will I ever repay you?" I defend my family because my mom hasn't been the one to do it, and definitely not Prim. She isn't outspoken and defensive.

Like me.

Cinna evaluates my demand carefully. The gas alone would add up to a hefty sum, and we couldn't pay that back. But Nurses usually take up the occupation because they are self-sacrificing loving people. Cinna is the definition of that.

So when he states, "By being my friend," I accept.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Cinna has the equanimity so unlike the Capitol. Just like any big city, the lifestyle is different. New York City residents can get away with, according to their standards, walking around Manhattan in 6-inch heels for miles, just to look fashionable. Cinna does not fit into this strange way of living. He dresses nice, and holds his composure like a respectful man that he is, but is disparate of the ways of big city life. He does not strike me as the guy that gets hammered at New Year's Eve, or runs off crazy without pants on. The fanatical flamboyant ways of living are way beyond our comprehension in our measly town.

Which I am okay with.

He is a lot like Peeta. Peeta is the sweetest, most selfless person I know. One thing he isn't is crazy and rambunctious. You don't always know what he will do exactly, but you will get the subtle hints. He isn't spontaneous, which I like. They will both make great companions when they meet in the hospital.

When I'm released from the hospital, it's 4 hours after the preposition of Cinna taking us to the capitol. My mother told me that I was burning an ulcer in my stomach from the anxiety. 240 minutes can create a million different outcomes of the situation you are in.

By the end of my worrying session, I had lost the oomph to protest wheeling out in a wheelchair. I roll up to a beat-up car in the staff parking lot.

"I need to put some of my junk in the trunk. I have been living out of my car for the last couple days." He says with a deep inhaled laugh.

Prim and I nervously laugh together thinking of months after my dad died, the idea of living out of our car had crossed out mind a many times. We started to pawn off different belongings in the beginning, but eventually came to an acceptable plateau for finances. It wasn't easy. Nurses are not paid very well, and my mother's nursing license had expired a couple of months before. With a few online nursing classes, she got her license back and went to work. It wasn't much, hardly peaking over minimum wage. The Mellark's helped add to our family income, me working at the bakery, and Prim tried to not ask for much.

I wonder how they are with their son's injury. Do they even know?

"Earth to Katniss?" Prim waves her hands in front of my face to get my attention. "Mom wants you in the front seat. You have been crumpled in that hospital bed all day." She moves her little hands to my projected stomach and coddles, "Hey little Prim."

"Thought you weren't decided on the name yet?" Cinna chimes in to the conversation.

"Very funny." I roll my eyes and say sarcastically, while opening the passenger door and plopping down. The car isn't a complete piece of crap, but you can tell he doesn't have his student loans paid off. It smells like a mixture of ranch dressing and the lemon deodorizer hanging from the rearview mirror, and the seats have an unusual 'squish'; but I don't care. A dirty car is better than no car.

Prim sits behind me and scoots my chair back so I can get comfortable for the drive. It's only an hour, but I know it will take longer. I prop my feet up on the dash with the driver's permission, and examine my cut feet. They are swollen from my pregnancy, but I don't pay attention of my state of wellbeing. It reminds me of Peeta.

Instead, I compel myself to listen to the forced conversation and look out the window of the changing landscape from trees and wildlife to concrete and street signs.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Capitol Hospital is an architectural masterpiece. The brick building has smooth corners, the red contrasting the green mortar in-between the bricks. The cement awning over the ambulance bay is larger than the rest of the building, making it easier to locate with the eye. I decide to finally walk inside and see if the outside is any indication of the interior decoration. I'm not disappointed when it looks like a page in one of the architecture magazines that the rich people read.

While slathering my hands with sanitizer, I take a deep breath and try to take a step toward Information but my feet stay stubbornly planted on the tiled floor. One-step. Two step. Three step. Finally, I make it to the desk. The woman sitting there is sitting in her business suit; her nails are the color of cherries.

"Excuse me?" I ask politely.

"Yes?" She turns to face me and her face is an unnatural color of orange, much like the Doritos Peeta and I munch on.

"Umm, Can you tell me what room Peeta Mellark is in?"

"Your Name?"

"Katniss Everdeen." She searches her computer screen while typing in his name.

"Peter Mellark is not in the system."

"Peeta." I emphasize the 'ah' at the end, "Like the flat bread. P-E-E-T-A."

"Right… here my dear. Fourth floor room 12. However, in his information it says that he was scheduled for surgery last night. He should be starting to wake up now."

I thank her and wait for the rest of them. Even Cinna.

Cinna insists that this is an emergency and sneaks us through the main floor to the back staff elevator. _It's faster. _He says.

We encounter another nurse and we go through the similar motions. _This is definitely a high security facility. _"First door on your right. He just got out of surgery." The secretary with purple- tipped hair states with a smile then proceeds to wave us on.

Sitting in the waiting area is his family, well some of it. His Dad gives me a whole-hearted hug from the side, taking the extra precaution not to squish my belly. His mom sits at the side and gives me a polite yet curt smile. I return it and Prim yanks at my arm.

I hesitate at the door. A part of me doesn't want to see him. I don't want to face the reality, and I don't want to know how bad it is. But then I think that if our roles were reversed, Peeta wouldn't hesitate to see me. I gather up enough courage to push the door open, but I still can't seem to walk in.

"Come on, Katniss." Prim encourages me.

I step through the door and walk to the bed. Prim stays by my side the whole time, not trying to rush me in any way.

"Peeta." Prim whispers brokenly. I look at Peeta, and involuntarily gasp.

He looks so different from the Peeta I am used to. He once radiated life and happiness, but now, he is lifeless. His features are just _too_ pale, enunciating the dark bruises all over his face and arms. He looks completely exhausted, and wires are sticking out of him in perfect disorder.

I cautiously take a seat beside Peeta as Prim sits on his other side. I take one of Peeta's bandaged hands in both of my own, being careful not to disturb the IV wire. "Peeta?" I whisper softly. "Can you hear me?"

He makes no indication that he can hear me, and I turn to Prim. "Do you think he can hear me?"

"It's worth trying." Prim replies with a shrug. I see her take Peeta's other hand in her own, and whisper something to him.

"I'm here now." I whisper to his lifeless form. "Just get better."

I gently brush a curl of blonde hair off his forehead, and he moans slightly. My hand immediately flies off his skin, because I'm afraid of hurting him any further. But then his eyes open, unmistakably blue against his pale skin and the white bed.

"Peeta." I whisper, smiling through my tears. His hand reaches up to his face, trying to get his oxygen mask off, but I reach out and gently grab his arm. "Don't try to talk." I gently murmur to him. "Just get better."

I gently kiss his forehead, and when I draw back, I see that his eyes are closed again and he's already dozed off again. I take hold of his hand again, and stare down at his sleeping form. He looks so much younger in sleep, almost like a young boy.

His Dad walks in right after, right as Prim exits to inform Mom of his condition, most likely. "He was awake." I announce to his Dad proudly.

"Not for long, right?" I nod in reply, and look down. After a few minutes, Cinna brings in a doctor to explain what the surgery entailed. While listening, I lift up the sheet covering his legs and see a long row of stitches down his leg, right above his left kneecap. He explains that he won't be able to play any strenuous sports or operate any heavy machinery, or lift heavy objects. Peeta won't be happy that 100-pound sacks of flour won't be making many appearances in his life in close time. He shows me the stitches on his back, and arms, and the various bruises on his body.

"Did the bloodless requirements get in the way of surgery?" I ask the white coated doctor after we have left the room. We all crowd around the doctor in the waiting room; Prim and my mom, Cinna, and both of Peeta's parents.

"Actually, the previous hospital records had the wrong blood type written down, so if a blood transfusion would have been performed, it'd have devastating results. Matching a donor's blood and a patient's blood is critical in transfusions. If someone with type A blood receives type B, they may have a severe hemolytic reaction. This can destroy many of their red cells and quickly kill them. Every year people die of hemolytic reactions. So him being sent our way with a request in the bloodless program was a blessing in disguise. " Everyone in the room is heard taking a community gasp at the news. How irresponsible it was to have the wrong blood type. Maybe I like bigger hospitals, if it means someone's life saved, especially his. "To answer your question," He looks to me, "It didn't interfere with the surgery; we have doctors on site that are trained specifically to handle these situations."

Peeta's Dad pulls me into the room where a sleeping Peeta lies.

"Hey Katniss?"

"Yeah?" I say. Its crazy how he has become such a father figure for me. So, when he gets up and hugs tightly, Im okay with it, because this must be hard for him too. The worst his son had had was a concussion in football, and minor bruises from me punching him on the gut on accident. For him to have his son air lifted almost the instant he arrived at the other hospital, it definitely was not on his daily agenda. I wrap my arms around him tighter and cocoon my baby in-between us two.

"You know this is not your fault, right?" He strokes my hair down my back, which I had forgotten to braid. I smile through the tears and nod. Words are stuck in traffic in my throat. The blockade is the big lump in my throat from my tears. Its there because I remember back to my father, how after I got a good grade on my schoolwork, or I had a bad day at school, he would hold me close to tell me he loved me, and I would tell him the same. That I would make sure to write something good about him for my family report. That he would make sure to put the extra brown sugar into my oatmeal without mom noticing, and I knew that he would keep those promises.

"I promise it's not your fault. Don't feel guilty; it's just that Peeta was at the wrong place at the wrong time." He laughs at his son's supposed clumsiness, "And that truck needed to go soon." He lets go and plants a kiss on my forehead. "We have been waiting with him since we got here, Im starved. Can you sit with him?"

"Yes. Of course." He starts a long stride, but halfway through I stop him. "You are going to be a great grandfather." I say with a smirk.

He grins brightly, his eyes shining like Peeta's, only his have age and dimension and crinkles around them. "And you," he points to me, "are going to be a great mother." With that, he leaves me in a questioning state and I hold onto Peeta's hand as if it's a lifeline.

XXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX xXxXxXxX

My author notes are probably annoying, but I have some explaining. Winter Break is the time where you think, "Wow! I have all this extra time to write!" No. I have hardly even been home. Therefore, I apologize. Life comes first, before my stories. However, life reflects into my writing.

Also, a lot of this is not my original writing. Its excerpts from other pieces of writings. If any of this does not make sense, just review. If you want to know where I got the excerpts, just review. I respond to every one of them. (:


	11. A New Beginning

It had been 5 days since Peeta transported to Capitol Hospital. The nerves of the experience have started up my morning sickness again, or it is a completely different stomach nausea. Peeta is held in an induced coma in consideration of his torn leg. He is breathin', fightin', and living too.

Cinna has an apartment with his mother about a mile outside the hospital boundaries. His mother graciously gave up the spare bedroom and living room couch for our stay here.

Mr. Heavensbee has called my mother repeatedly asking many questions. _Is Katniss okay? What about the baby? Is Peeta on life support? _My mother puts up a friendly façade and responds patiently explaining that we are all right and so is Peeta.

Plutarch and I also got into the conversation of schooling. It's my 3rd day missed in a row, and definitely not my last. He talked with the school district in explanation of my situation and they decided to give me something they call a _scholastic reprieve _until I return. Prim was excused also. It was Okayed with our teachers, Mr. Wright even agreed.

My mother and Cinna sure have hit it off. When Prim and I are sleeping in the spare bedroom, we hear them speaking of their childhoods and different situations as nurses. They are building such a great friendship that I am proud my mother let someone into her life, and unlike me, she does not feel that she owes it to him.

I still have no idea how I will repay him.

Prim has handled the situation quite well considering that she gets to leave school and miss her time with Rue, who had a sleepover at her house last weekend while we were out. So instead, I made it up to her by playing a game of Uno on the hospital table next to Peeta's bed. After we reluctantly returned to our temporary residence at Cinna's, where Prim kindly rubbed my feet that have swelled considerably with the hormone changes and the climate changes in the high-elevated Capitol.

It could be said that Prim and I are familiar faces on the fourth floor. The secretary with the purple tips and I are on first name terms. On her breaks, Violet and I discuss different baby names for my little girl. She has three boys at home and has always wanted to help in the up bringing of a girl, or even choosing a name.

Last night, after Prim had left with my mom to go back to the room, I stayed in Peeta's room with his Dad. We find ourselves together a lot; we were the ones that cared about Peeta the most. His mother isolated herself and his brother has too. He is using the time to find some Capitol girls to entertain.

Last night, was especially difficult. The doctor explained that Peeta was to be taken off the medication because his body needed to fight the infection more independently. He would become more alert over the next day. With a breath of relief, I held his hand tightly while they removed the fluid from his IV port in his wrist. He did not seem to respond for a few minutes, but when he did, I could see the desperate sweat beads on his forehead.

_Here is the place that I love you. _I whisper it under my breath without noticing.

Like all the nights before, I slept holding his shaking hand throughout the night, not willing to let go.

* * *

This morning I don't wake up from a back-straining night sleep. The nights before, I slept on the chairs that were as comfortable as a park bench. But instead, Half of me is laying on the hospital bed with Peeta wrapped around me. I don't remember moving in my sleep, but it's not surprising. He pulled my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he's sleeping. It feels so foreign to be held like this. Not that he hasn't protected me before, but it is unexpected. No one holds me like this, beside Peeta. Since my father died I stopped trusting my mother, no one else's arms have made me feel this safe. My head leans against his chest, while his left hand intertwines with mine, and the other lightly covering my swelled abdomen.

It is such a peaceful moment I do not want to even think where we are. I don't want to think that we are surrounded by hundreds of other patients. I don't want to think that he won't wake up even if I shake him.

His grip is slightly tighter than last night, reminding me that everything isn't great. He is still shaking to the point where the thin white sheet covering him before is now blanketing the tiles below.

The late summer sun is shining through the window; one of the nurses must have opened the curtains. It has to be a little past eight o'clock, the nurses are making their morning rounds to the rooms; I can hear the unruffled footsteps stomping the floor. _When will I hear Peeta's clomping footsteps? Will Peeta be able to walk after he wakes up? _I miss those footsteps. I miss everything. This is the longest I have gone without talking to him since the beginning months of my pregnancy. It is not like it's his fault, not being able to respond. He is going to feel horrible for putting me through this afterward, even though none of this is his responsibility.

We wouldn't be here if I didn't need to stop at the little shack for a pit stop. It's my fault, and the guilt of repayment sits strongly within me.

I snuggle closer and just pay attention to the rhythm of his shallow breaths, instead of the guilt weighing heavily on my chest.

Moments later, the door opens and his father comes in with his clutch on his coffee cup. He opens his eyes wide, and then takes a seat across the room, awkwardly switching his glance.

He exhales deeply, before greeting with controlled calmness, "Good morning. Didn't the nurse say to be extra careful with his leg?"

The realization hits and I hastily scramble out of the bed, and slam my body into the chair that I fell asleep in. "I totally forgot. I thought I would wake up in the chair, but it's like Peeta pulled me next to him. Think he'll be waking up later this morning."

He smiles at this and chugs down a large gulp of coffee with a smile. He must look forward to hearing his son's voice also. I take this as a cue to finger-comb out my hair and braid it. My fingers sloppily grasp each piece of hair as I tuck it behind my ears. Getting too irritated, I pull it all out and put it over my shoulders. I return my grasp to Peeta's hand, and it is alarming that he hangs on it in return.

Cinna walks in with his charts and looks at Peeta and me, me completely disheveled and him looking more colored than he has before with the extra pigment in his skin. He switches his glance between the both of us. Suddenly, I remember than Cinna and Peeta have not even met. I mean Cinna has seen Peeta lying in a hospital bed with just as much emotion as a piece of bread. However, Peeta does like bread. I like his bread too.

_Please just wake up Peeta. _

"You know he should be waking pretty soon. It is important that as soon as he wakes up, you need to alert a nurse. We will put him on more painkillers. Is he IV port still inserted?" He says and I nod while my chest tightens. I hate needles.

"Okay Katniss, I hope he is just as great as you put him to be. It will be nice meeting him." He smiles before looking down to my stomach. "How is she?" He is referring to the baby. She has been sleepy this morning. Ever since I slept with Peeta in his bed, it is as if she can sense it too. I did not wake up with the urge to puke. It is the start of a good day, even if my boyfriend is still unconscious.

"Happy." I reply with a smile.

"Good to hear. How about you?" He says flipping through the pages on his clipboard.

"Ready."

He chuckles and grabs my hand, "Expected," he replies cleverly. He let's go of my hand after a few seconds and proceeds to Peeta's Dad who says that they would like to talk out in the hall.

Using both my arms on the armrest, I push myself off the chair. I grab my phone out of my purse lying on the ground, completely surprised that it turns on. Turning on the home screen, five texts messages and one expected missed phone call from Plutarch.

I scroll through the texts:

_From: Prim, 9:34 PM _

_Hey kat hows Peeta_

_From: Prim, 10:03 PM_

_im going to go to the mall with mom tmrow, so we wont see you. We are gonna stop by with some extra clothes for u in the morn_

_From: Prim, 10:05 PM _

_If you do not need anything, do not respond (:_

_From: Gale Hawthorne, 10:49 PM _

_How is Peeta, the school is worried. Plutarch will not tell us much. I know we are not at great standing with each other, I'm just worried. Please Kat. Hope you are well also. _

Why does Gale want to know? What are his real intentions? Why isn't Plutarch telling the school? When Sally Parkinson was in the hospital after her car crash, during the morning announcements, we got updates on her condition, every single morning for weeks. Is it because Peeta is dating the pregnant girl and the school board thinks that Peeta's condition has anything to do with not supporting teen pregnancy? Peeta is his own person too.

I let out a shaky breath and, ignoring Gale's prodding, instead reply to Prim's texts.

_To: Prim 8:26 AM_

_Peeta should be waking up today, and I don't need any clothes. Thanks. Love you Prim xoxo_

I throw my phone down against my purse and ring my fingers together. Should I just call Gale and see? I guess I will just have to think it over.

I start to rebraid my hair again, a seemingly nervous habit I have acquired.

"Stop. I like your hair down." A weak voice declares from behind me.

"Peeta." I exhale more than say.

"That is my name. And you are Katniss. Nice to meet me." He smiles with half his teeth.

"Nice to meet me too." I laugh as the tears hit the floor. My feet seem nailed on the floor. I can't move, either because I am so giddy with excitement that he is awake, or im afraid that if I touch him, he'll break.

"Where am I? Why are you standing so far away?" He accuses while coughing dryly.

I still can't move, and I don't feel that its right for me to explain where he is, but I am going to anyway. "Umm, you are in Capitol Hospital. You just woke from an induced coma. Its been 6 days. Do you remember why you are here?"

"Im not answering until you come over here."

"Fine," I answer stubbornly. I stomp over to his bed, lean down and connect my lips harshly with his. He weakly responds, either because he is only thinking of his pain, or he doesn't know what to think. I grab both sides of his face and kiss his cheeks and nose and chin. I pull back, and the only thing I notice is Peeta's wide eyes. "You have no idea how much I have missed you," and return my lips to his.

He doesn't respond, and I shake him awake, but he just asleep. His heart rate monitor is still on his finger, and it's just a dynamic bouncing on the screen. I just shrug and kiss his forehead. "I love you Peeta."

"Im tired, Katniss." He says hardly under his breath. I smile and rustle his hair softly. I return my hand on my belly to find her kicking again. I think that she likes the kissing. But that's probably absurd thinking.

Remembering the command from Cinna, I alert Violet at the secretary desk that Peeta has just woken up, and that Cinna ordered me to tell a nurse. She comments that she appreciates my obedience and pages Cinna and other nurses on the ward. I let out my excitement to my new-made friend and tell her about how great Peeta is. I ramble on about different things he does for me, if it's for the baby or just because he loves me, or both. Mostly both. I tell her about the instance in the rain after my father died. She chuckled at the right parts and nodded in respect at others.

"He sounds like a great guy. For a teenager, he seems level-headed. Not perfect, but close to it."

"He is as close to perfection as I can get. Hopefully it stays that way. We are parents in less than 5 months." I announce with mixed prominence and jitters. It's either. Or neither. I guess I will just have to find out.

We sit in silence for a couple of minutes, her typing different forms and me flipping through one of the celebrity magazines off the magazine rack. She gasps slightly which thoroughly draws my attention. "What? What?"

"Is your boyfriend Peeta Mellark?" I nod hastily and wait for her to continue. "On his file it says that he is staying for 3 more weeks for physical therapy. Did you know that?"

"Definitely no." My mind goes to the times of Peeta's absence and I can't even think of 3 more weeks without him. "My mom says that we can stay for two more days. Tops. Cinna has given up his residence for us. Prim and I are staying in the spare bedroom. My mom thinks that it's a burden on Cinna to keep us at his place."

She gets this concerned look in her eyes, and she flares her nostrils a little. "Maybe just you could stay with us. Maybe."

* * *

Update coming more frequently(:


	12. Author's Note Don't Hate Me

One thing in particular that I really appreciate about fanfiction is that the users are patient. Personally, I haven't received a single review or personal message with something bad to say. I want to thank each of my reviewers for their kindness to me. I have been working on a one-shot for a couple days. It's better than any of my chapters from this story. I love it so much. I want to publish it. It's a somewhat 'tragedy' between Katniss and Peeta. Its really emotional, and you feel with it. Its a song fic, (Which I realized are some of my favorite to write) so its very structured unlike 'Baby On Fire". So be checking on my account for it. The story is my favorite thing I will publish at the moment and I cant wait to share it with you. (:

Okay, here is the confession: Not really sure when I will be updating this story. I have lost interest for it, but I will come back. Don't hate me.


	13. Check it out

Okay I put the one-shot up. Its called Shattered. (: Make sure to review!


End file.
